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One of my housemates told me recently that she had a prof who talked about Dead Poets Society, one of my favorite movies, as a great example of moral ambiguity in film. I was watching it this week, so I read an essay on it in the library and thought I’d raise a question for discussion if anyone’s interested. (If you haven’t seen the movie, watch it before you read––it’s a warm and real portrayal of friendship among guys, and it’s kind of inspiring too.) My question is, should Mr. Keating be viewed as the movie’s hero or its villain? If you need a quick review of the plot, the movie stars Robin Williams as Mr. Keating, an English teacher at a boys’ prep school in the 1950’s who labors to inspire his students to seize the day, eschewing societal conformity to make their lives extraordinary. In line with this, they organize a club called the Dead Poets Society, whose activities include sneaking out to read poetry together and encouraging each other to “suck the marrow out of life”. Personally, I think that “seize the day” would be a tiresome slogan if it didn’t reflect such an important truth. The fact is, it’s easy to miss out on what we really want because we’re too complacent to take a risk or work hard at something. So Neil, one of the students, decides he wants to be an actor, even though his unyielding father forbids him to do anything that distracts from getting into Harvard so he can get into medical school. Mr. Keating says otherwise: Neil must convince his father to let him pursue his passion for the stage. Defying his father instead of reasoning with him, Neil performs in the community theatre anyway, after which his father decides to send him to military school. Neil shoots himself that night. THE MORAL QUESTION The final act of the movie is the part where blame gets apportioned. The school’s headmaster (Mr. Nolan), at the request of Neil’s father, conducts a “thorough inquiry” which, not surpisingly, blames Mr. Keating for Neil’s death and gets him dismissed from the school. For director Peter Weir, this is a gross injustice, as Mr. Nolan forces Neil’s fellow students to sign a statement blaming Mr. Keating. In the film’s final scene, several of the students show their gratitude and respect to Mr. Keating though one last defiant, and fairly moving, gesture. Now, there are four possible culprits for Neil’s suicide: Neil himself, Mr. Keating, Neil’s father, and Mr. Nolan the headmaster. The movie addresses each in turn:
In all this, the movie tries to declare most emphatically that Mr. Keating is not at fault. And it might succeed, except for a key scene that reveals that Mr. Keating knows Neil is lying to his father. Neil tells him that he has spoken to his father, as Mr. Keating suggested, and that his father has agreed to let him perform in the play. But we don’t believe Neil, and neither does Mr. Keating––we can see it in his eyes. As much as we want Neil to be in the play, I think most grown-ups would agree that it’s irresponsible for a teacher to stand aside and let a 17-year-old defy his father like that, especially when Mr. Keating knows Neil tried out for the play largely as a result of his own influence. That doesn’t make Mr. Keating the one who shot Neil, but it does make him negligent and irresponsible in using his position as teacher. Neil was a minor, and his father’s opinion really did mean more than Mr. Keating’s. So, to return to my question: granting that all four parties bear some guilt, should Mr. Keating be viewed as the hero or the villain of the movie? More specifically, I’ll quote the charges that the two villians of the movie level against him. The first is Cameron, the student who rats out Mr. Keating to the administration. One of the other students asks him who the administration is holding responsible for Neil’s death:
The second quote is from Mr. Nolan, describing to one of the boys the contents of the statement he is expected to sign incriminating Mr. Keating:
So, even though as moviegoers we hate to admit it, aren’t they basically right? |
February 24th, 2007 at 4:23 pm
It’s been a while since I have seen it but from what I recall I would agree that Mr. Keating is somewhat of a villian (though I didn’t consider it while watching the movie). It is not because of bad motives but because he approaches the issue with an unhealthy worldview. He assumes that the individual is most important and the individual should fulfill his individual dreams and desires. What Mr. Keating fails to teach is the importance of a communal aspect to life. And perhaps that would be the lesson he learns from this. What Neil failed to understand or consider was the consequences that his “seizing the day” would have on his family, friends, and teacher. Was his acting aspirations important enough to inflict that suffering on them? If the individual self is most important than the answer is “Yes”. If not then, “No”. My worldview agrees with the latter.
In reality, I’d say there is no real hero in the film. Though all four people seem to have good intentions, all fall short of heroic actions.
February 25th, 2007 at 6:21 pm
I really like your point about the individual and the community. Pop culture, for as long as I can remember, has had a tendency to promote a certain notion of “freedom” that’s really only a different kind of slavery in disguise.
People talk at times as if each person owes it to herself to do what she really wants to do, and that if she doesn’t, then she’s somehow betraying the truth.
But that’s only a half-truth. If she’s denying what she wants for no good reason, then I’d agree that she should make a change. But very often what we want conflicts with other responsibilities and commitments we have, and in these cases it can be quite destructive to turn our individual desires into a sort of god we must obey.
I think the hardest challenge many people face (in a self-indulgent society) is not from other people but from the self. In reality, it’s quite easy to defy other people’s wishes; what’s difficult is to set aside what I want to do in order to pursue the things that are more important. And as Micah says, importance has to be judged not just by the individual, but with the community.
The person who always follows his heart is actually giving himself over to the whim of emotions he can scarcely control. That’s no freedom at all. And what’s more, it’s very often destructive to others.
True freedom is the ability to either follow one’s heart or set aside one’s desires because of values or commitments to others. A person who is free knows when to seize the day and pursue his passion, and when to obey his father’s wishes (as Neil probably should have done in the movie) and do the best he can within the communal restrictions placed upon him. That kind of freedom would not drive one to suicide in a situation such as Neil’s.
Mr. Keating pays lip service to showing discernment, but he fails to advise Neil that sometimes a person must compromise and submit to undesirable restrictions.
Just ask the child whose parent dissolved a functional marriage and left the family because they fell in love with someone else and didn’t want to “live a lie” any longer. A free person could defy those feelings, powerful as they are, and stay to forge a stronger family. Only the person who is a slave to their own emotions would leave in the supposed name of love, forever seeking some vague sense of fulfillment regardless of the cost to others.
February 27th, 2007 at 2:50 pm
Wow, massive worldview clash. All I can hear is,
“blah blah conform blah blah obey your father blah, even if you’re 32 blah blah and he’s nucking futz blah.”
I’m sure that’s not what you two are actually saying, but that’s what I hear.
February 27th, 2007 at 5:56 pm
How about this: Mr. Keating let Neil start a war they both knew he’d lose, at least as long as he used the tactics Mr. Keating advocated.
The other half of me thought Neil should say, “Here’s the deal, dad. Let me stay in my school and act in this play, or as soon as I turn 18 you’ll never see me again as long as you live.”
That’s the side of me that knows bargaining works in situations where arguing is useless –– and as an only son, Neil does in fact have quite a lot of leverage with his parents, provided he’s ready to follow through with the threat.
But I maintain that a person who never learns self-denial (a difficult skill) will eventually become miserable unless they die young, and in any event they’ll make other people miserable.
February 28th, 2007 at 10:21 am
“Mr. Keating let Neil start a war they both knew he’d lose, at least as long as he used the tactics Mr. Keating advocated”
Keating encourages Neil to take a dangerous position - pursuing his dream - but the alternative seems to be guaranteed failure: the path of Neil’s life is entirely dominated by his father.
I agree with you in that both Keating and Neil’s father are necessary ingredients for Neil’s suicide. But if I were to try to take some globally applicable moral rule from this story, it would not be, “teachers should teach children to always obey their parents,” but, “parents should let grown children determine their own life path.”
“But I maintain that a person who never learns self-denial (a difficult skill) will eventually become miserable unless they die young, and in any event they’ll make other people miserable.”
I’m not convinced that there is any such thing as self-denial: only people for whom it feels better to do the “right thing” than it does to do the “fun thing”.
February 28th, 2007 at 2:06 pm
You sinful and perverse generation, how long must I be with you? How long must I bear with you?
Truly, truly, I say to you, it is indeed an oversimplification to put things merely in terms of “self” versus “others” or the individual versus the group. However, to suggest that there is no fundamental difference between doing what you think is right and doing whatever gives you the jollies, is not only mistaken it is reprehensible. That is the philosophy of charlatans, and as easy as it comes to mind and lip when discussing obeying or disobeying parents, I think you would sing a different tune if the issue was abusing or not abusing children.
When will this generation learn that anthropology cannot bear the weight that has been put on it?
February 28th, 2007 at 4:58 pm
“I think you would sing a different tune if the issue was abusing or not abusing children.”
No, actually. My tune sounds about the same. Joe the child abuser is not more morally praiseworthy than Joe the parish priest, because the ideas of moral praise and blame are incoherent, given that we don’t choose what we want, or what we want to want, or what we want to want to want …
This isn’t to say that we can’t lock Joe up to keep him away from the children. We can do so for the good of the community, and we can pity him for having this destructive and uncontrollable desire, and we can even try to help him change his desire. But we can’t be indignant about his behavior. If we had been given Joe’s set of environmental and biological inputs, we would have done the same thing.
March 1st, 2007 at 12:39 am
“given that we don’t choose what we want, or what we want to want, or what we want to want to want …”
I think this was the point I was trying to make. Correct me if I’m wrong, but does this statement make the assumption that we should act on our individual wants? Or do you assume that whatever choices we make are actually our wants? I am suggesting that making choices based soley on what I, individually, want is irresponsible. At the same time, to never consider what I individually want is irresponsible as well.
I disagree about not being able to be indignant about someones behavior. Can we not ever say, “you know better than to do that”?
March 1st, 2007 at 11:06 am
“Can we not ever say, “you know better than to do that”?”
Sure, you can say that, but I’d think you also ought to recognize that “knowing better” has very little to do with whether we do something. We act on our desires, and if our desire is to do what we perceive as “the right thing to do”, then we’ll do that. Otherwise, we’ll do something else. My point in the earlier comment is that our desires determine how we behave, and we don’t choose our desires.
BTW, I’m arguing from a deterministic or weak-volitional position, something I’m not used to, but this approach to choice seems to resolve some questions about the world, and it jives with modern neuroscience, so I’m trying it out and seeing where it takes me.
March 1st, 2007 at 2:44 pm
I’m not convinced that there is any such thing as self-denial: only people for whom it feels better to do the “right thing” than it does to do the “fun thing”.
I’m having trouble fitting delayed gratification into your way of seeing things, Matt.
Let’s take an example: a person will often practice self-denial in order to feel better in the future, even though it doesn’t feel good in the present.
Now, you could certainly claim that in the present I find enough pleasure in knowing about my future pleasure (i.e., when this self-denial pays off) to outweigh the lack of pleasure from whatever I’m denying myself right now.
But I’m not sure I buy that. In my experience, it often (or at least sometimes) feels more like I’m experiencing displeasure now, only trusting that I’ll feel pleasure later.
In any event, I often have times where I fail to deny myself in the present, even though I know full well I’d be happier later if I did. The fact that sometimes my better judgment does win out suggests to me that I’m exercising a skill and not just acting on what makes me feel better.
And besides, learning the skill of self-denial can fit into a determinist scheme. It just means that someone suggested it, and that something in my experience leads me to find it credible as piece of advice.
March 1st, 2007 at 3:18 pm
“Let’s take an example: a person will often practice self-denial in order to feel better in the future, even though it doesn’t feel good in the present.”
That simply means that the person’s strongest desire is to feel better in the future, and this desire trumps his desire to feel good in the present.
“learning the skill of self-denial can fit into a determinist scheme”
Sure, I guess the determinist just has different names for things, and might - but might not - value them differently.
Let’s say my practical options are one marshmallow now or two marshmallows later. Ideally, I would like to have two marshmallows now, but according to the rules of the game, two marshmallows now is not an option. So *of the options that are truly possible*, I will choose the one that best fits my desires.
In this way, the “self-denier” turns out to be the one who most wants to wait for two marshmallows, and the “self-indulger” turns out to be the one who most wants to eat one marshmallow right now.
March 1st, 2007 at 10:05 pm
Can someone who is a “self-denier” at one time change to a “self-indulger” at another? My experience is that you can. I guess this means that either my desires change randomly from “self-indulger” to “self-denier” or I can choose to act contrary to my desires.
March 2nd, 2007 at 9:57 am
“I guess this means that either my desires change randomly from “self-indulger” to “self-denier” or I can choose to act contrary to my desires.”
I think I’d say that it means that the situations in which you find yourself are normal human situations, which is to say that they are extraordinarily complex.
Obviously all sorts of desires can influence a decision, and these desires can wax and wane over time. Sometimes I might want to feel virtuous. Other times I might really want to have a nap. Other times my blood sugar might be low, and I’m just pissy about everything.
So while I deny myself marshmallows right now because it’s lent, and my strongest desires are to identify with others in the Christian tradition, to explore the feeling of being without, etc., it may happen that in a week or so I get really depressed, and my strongest desire will be to feel better, and so I’ll eat a bunch of marshmallows because I know that will at least get me through until the sugar hangover.
March 2nd, 2007 at 5:59 pm
I agree that desires are complex and that they fluctuate, but I want to add another complicating factor to the discussion.
People also have abilities and inabilities that you have to take into account. So for example, right now I can’t bench press 400 pounds, no matter how badly I want to. I could conceivably develop the ability to do it if I put in the necessary work, but until I’ve done that work, I simply can’t.
My suspicion is that choice-making is the same, at least to an extent. So going back to the idea of self-denial, what if it depends on certain mental pathways being developed within the brain, without which a person simply can’t practice self-denial? In other words, there might a person that, no matter how badly they want to make a particular choice, simply can’t do it –– unless they take the time to develop the ability.
I’m kind of over-simplifying, but I think this suggests that what we do cannot just be based on what we want or desire at any given point of time. Ability has to be taken into accont, and that’s why I would argue that it’s worth teaching, e.g., self-denial, because it gives people more options. Before someone learns self-denial, their only options are the self-indulgent ones; afterward, they have more choices to actually follow up on what they want.
The Christian claim at this point would probably be that the Spirit of God can effect massive changes within our minds that give us new abilities to choose Godly choices that we were unable to choose before. A humanistic interpretation of the same process might say that under certain circumstances the mind has the ability to reconfigure itself in powerful ways to attain new abilities. In neither case, though, does the change depend merely on what a person wants or desires.
So back to my main point, although any person is capable of exhibiting a lack of self-control, I think there are some choices that a person can’t make until they learn the skill. Whatever we think about determinism, I think that building these skills in ourselves and our young people, then, is a worthwhile (i.e., world-improving) pursuit.
March 2nd, 2007 at 11:19 pm
That is a good point about the complexities of our human situations.
I am approaching this discussion from a personal perspective. I know that I have been in situations where something within me strongly urges me to act a certain way. To stay with the marshmallow illustration - there have been times when the bag of marshmallows has been in front of me and something within me (i would call it my desire) very strongly wanted me to take the marshmallow. My understanding is that I should not eat marshmallows for any reason. At times I eat anyway and at other times I’m able to refrain. However, during most of those situations something is telling me to eat a marshmallow.
Why can I deny that desire some of the time? Is it because there are actually competing desires within me? If so, and I am a slave to competing desires within me, I don’t see anyway to live with any hope.
A question that I keep asking myself in this discussion is this: Is there any value in believing that we are simply slaves to desires that we have no control over?
March 3rd, 2007 at 12:22 am
“So for example, right now I can’t bench press 400 pounds, no matter how badly I want to.”
Nod, this was what I meant when I said, “*of the options that are truly possible*, I will choose the one that best fits my desires.”
So my question about your model is: in the real world, for most people, is learning self-denial an option that is truly possible?
Your model seems to give moral brownie points to those people who start with the desire to learn how to control their impulses. But what about those who, from the outset, don’t want to WANT to develop this ability? I suppose that you could say that they first need to focus on developing their desire to want to want to learn to control their impulses, but that line of argument is turtles all the way down.
“Whatever we think about determinism, I think that building these skills in ourselves and our young people, then, is a worthwhile (i.e., world-improving) pursuit.”
I agree that the ability to control one’s impulses is valuable, but I think what we decide about determinism heavily influences how we talk about this ability, and whether we pride ourselves on having developed it.
March 3rd, 2007 at 12:23 am
“Is there any value in believing that we are simply slaves to desires that we have no control over?”
I think I’d say that there may be value in understanding that our wills are contingent.
One simple gain that we get from looking at the world this way is that it’s easier to be humble: we do not will our virtues into existence, and even the virtues that we work at we were able to work at because we were blessed with helpful desires.
Another gain we get is that it’s easier to empathize: criminal A or poor person B may be in bad shape as a result of their own actions, but these actions were driven by desires that the subject did not choose. We might still choose to jail criminal A, but we’re going to be fairly humane about it, given that in a different environment, we might have done the same thing.
A final gain is that it jives with modern neuroscience. If it turns out that choice is an illusion conjured up by our brains after we act, our society moves toward accepting this, the church will be caught up and ready to talk in weak volitional language, rather than lagging so far behind that its message is culturally ridiculous.
March 3rd, 2007 at 1:36 am
In the real world, for most people, is learning self-denial an option that is truly possible?
Sure, especially to the extent that learning self-denial depends on parenting. If a person performs the actiosn that develop self-denial, it doesn’t matter whether they did them out of free well or because they were determined to do them.
Right now, anyone reading this who has kids may either do things that foster the ability of their kids to practice self-denial, or else not do those things. Whether either parent or child is making a choice is not particularly relevant to whether the child develops the skill.
Sure, some kids won’t develop the skill of self-denial despite the best effort of parents, but still parents can act in a way that tends to create this skill. I’m saying simply that people who know how to practice self-denial will tend to be happier in the long run, so I don’t see any reason why my argument shouldn’t lead parents who are reading this to do those that will tend to develop that skill in their children.
I agree with you on the prison thing, at least on the principle of how people are treated. But if it turns out that creating a sense of responsibility ends up being the best way to get people to act well, then we’ve got a problem, because philosophy will have led to less human flourishing rather than more.
March 3rd, 2007 at 1:44 am
This whole discussion raises questions for human rights. What does it mean to recognize people’s rights, other than to accept that you are responsible to treat them in certain ways? If people aren’t responsible, what’s to stop one person from mistreating another if they know they can get away with it? And why shouldn’t might make right? And if society realizes that notions of free will and personal responsibility lead to a better life for more people, won’t society likely find it more desirable to teach those principles even if they’re not true? I suppose Matthew woud say that’s what’s happening now.
August 31st, 2007 at 11:52 pm
[…] powerful pieces of rhetoric. In much the same way as a movie such as Dead Poets Society (see my earlier post), they not only tell a story but also try to persuade their readers of their point of view on […]