The Problem of Evil

Fantasy and science fiction are particularly fictitious genres. Their plots are not only fabricated, but their settings are far outside the norms of our past and present. This extra fictionality has made them, I believe, more vulnerable to various storytelling anti-patterns[1] which damage believability and relatability. Nowhere is this more apparent than in depictions of antagonists, particularly in our presentation of evil.

Briefly, stories are often hurt by having flat, overly and inexplicably ‘bad’ antagonists. Fantasy (as well as science fiction, but not to the same degree) stories often fall victim to this problem. This issue usually manifests as a force or character in the story who is just ‘evil’, who works to hurt and destroy because they represent darkness as an idea or because of a very simplistic motivation that is wildly out of proportion with their actions. That said, there are a few times when including basic ‘evil’ in a story can be useful and effective. But this is fairly rare, and I think the reason so many stories contain very flat antagonists is because some storytellers may not given the depiction of their antagonist the thought it deserves. They have not asked, why does evil present itself in such and such specific way? I hope this article may highlight some ways to more thoughtfully choose antagonists and their depictions.

What does it look like?

This simple antagonist often falls into a couple presentations. The first group are ‘supernatural’. These are beings, groups or forces that originate from outside the normal bounds of the universe relative to the protagonist. The classic case is demonic or evil forces, such as the Burning Legion and Void in the Warcraft universe[2]. But flat supernatural antagonist do not always have to be evil. An entity which is so far above or more advanced than ourselves can be antagonistic merely because it cannot notice us or does not care about our well-being. It cannot see us as equals. Thus, the supernatural is essentially too ‘foreign’ to deal with us with any concern or respect. With this definition, we can place celestial beings, aliens and advanced technology gone out of control into this category.

All too often, ‘evil’ does not even have the excuse of being supernatural. Sometimes, the storyteller will make some effort to give the antagonist a tragic or misguided motivation for their actions, such as Anakin Skywalker / Darth Vader. But sometimes they will not make even this effort and present a evil character who indulges in evil acts because evil. Needless to say, this character design is less than satisfying. It automatically pushes the audiences away from the story. They cannot relate to the story if the basic psychology presented does not have some amount of consistent internal logic. It doesn’t have to be a one to one, believable match with modern human psychology. Audiences loved the logic based psychology of Spock and Data from the Star Trek franchise because their way of thinking was well-presented and consistent. And for a storyteller’s audience, this consistency is a basic requirement.

A cheap way to mimic psychological consistency in an antagonist is to portray them as ‘crazy’, usually in the form of a pop culture version of psychopathy or sociopathy. Having the character be ‘evil’ at a biological level, whether by birth or otherwise, makes the work of the storyteller much easier but is almost always less interesting for the audience. Vaas from Far Cry 3[3] is a prime example. The thrill derived from his unpredictability and extreme behavior is entertaining but in the end the audience will be left craving a level of psychological depth that they can really engage with.

A popular and fairly effective way to sidestep the issue of believable motivations is to remove the psychological aspect all together. Zombies are a longstanding and popular antagonist precisely because they do not have or need a psychology or motivation. They fall under the category of ‘nature’ antagonists, where they are merely unthinking entities following a simple set of rules. Plagues and curious forms of natural disasters also fit this definition. These representations are effective because they mimic real life problems and because they do not attempt being relatable, so the audience can focus their attention elsewhere.

Easy is rarely good

As one can probably tell at this point, using the above depictions of flat antagonists generally has a negative effect on story quality. At the most basic level, these kinds of characters break the believability of the story. Regardless of how fantastical or unrealistic the world is, the audience expects to follow and understand the emotions of the story. They need the characters’ motivations to have a logic in order to connect with, relate to and care about the story. Any character who is just ‘good’ (in the extreme case, a Mary Sue) or just ‘bad’ for no discernible reason other than it makes the plot move forward makes a story seem false, silly, unrelatable, pointless and/or poorly told.

Audiences are used to living in a world where most people have some desire to do good, a sense of community and some set of values that they try to apply to their decisions. Everyone goes about acting on these factors in different ways, under various constraints and with different degrees of success. To achieve credibility with the audience, the story must acknowledge this, however minimally.

At a more troubling level, these kinds of depictions cause us to indulge in some of our worst ways of thinking about the world. Simplistic representations of good and evil make us practice thinking simplistically, even when we don’t agree with such ideas. To engage with the story and properly suspend our disbelief, we must accept that certain people are just inherently bad and some inherently good. We need not consider a character’s intentions, their understanding of their situation or their past.

Many people may say they would never be affected by silly representations in a story, particularly that their view of the world or of other cultures. While I’m not suggesting reading a few fantasy stories will cause one to take up fascism, I don’t believe that any of us remain entirely unaffected by the media we consume. We are what we eat, at a certain level. And by consuming stories based around simplistic conceptions of the world, we may start simplifying our own view of the real world, even if in very slight ways.

This simplification becomes all the more dangerous when stories use cultural references or analogs to the real world. Fantasy and science fiction often depict conflicts between races or species and these races often are strongly influenced by real cultures (such as all dwarves being Scotch-Irish). When morality is simplified and conflicts occur between races, the story becomes a depiction of justified racism and, often, genocide.

At a story level, flat representations of evil simplifies moral responsibility and reduces the moral stakes of the story. When good and evil are obvious, characters have little difficulty knowing what the right decision is given their situation. Often, their decisions come down merely to cowardice, are they willing to face the challenge or not. There is no need to understand the situation in depth, learn anything or admit our own ignorance when good and evil are plain as day, often indicated by which team (or even race) we happen to be a part of.

This obviousness kills the very thing that makes stories interesting, conflict. By reducing the moral stakes of the story, the central conflict is no longer truly a conflict, but merely another predictable event in a series of other events. The struggle is removed and, with it, the audience's’ interest and even the purpose and meaning of the story.

Why Why Why

So why do we continue using these constructions? In many cases, the answer is ‘because it’s easy’. Story creators lacking experience, proper criticism or interest in character development will simply find it easier to skip the moral complexities of realistic characters, particularly antagonists. Additionally, moral complexities are detrimental to epic or grandiose story atmosphere. ‘Epic’ stories rely on simplistic choices and good vs evil dynamics. This is true not only for high fantasy and space operas, but also for world lore. Lore is inherently simplified, acting as a mythologized version of the world’s history.

And Yet

We continue using simplified representations for another reason: because it can work (sometimes). Zombies are a handy example. World War Z[4] and Shaun of the Dead[5] include the simplistic ‘antagonists’ of zombies but both works focus on human psychology and relationship dynamics. I use quotation marks there because, while zombies seem to be the driving negative force in each work, the actual antagonists are our fellow humans or even ourselves[6] and the central conflict is among the so called protagonists.

Using supernatural or natural antagonists with a simplified depiction of evil can work wonderful if and only if the focus on the story is how humans react to difficult situations. This is often best accomplished when the ‘evil’ force is completely unrelatable to the main characters and to the audience, whether as an alien force, a plague or an army of demons. Once it seems that communication and compassion should be possible between the protagonists and the evil force, the whole mechanic falls apart. The audience will be pulled out of their suspensions of disbelief and their connection to the story by questions like ”Can’t they see what they have in common?”, ”Does it need to go this far?” and ”Is this reaction even reasonable?”. They will think these questions without even intending to. It’s not a sign of being overly critical or not giving the story a chance. The human mind is designed to see the world in terms of social interactions and to attempt to resolve conflicts via social means. Thus, any attempt to use this mechanic must be carefully and purposefully constructed.

Another use, attempted more often than it succeeds, is the use of evil forces as analogs for aspects of human psychology. A character succumbing to evil influences can reflect, say, the effects of stresses and trauma on one’s psychology. Or various forces can personify human impulses or emotions, such as hate or war. But in either case, the analogy must play out faithfully to the creator’s viewpoint or message. If a character is possessed by a demon as a metaphor for a reaction to trauma, can they be healed? What does that say about trauma and healing? If a plague represents humanity’s propensity for war, how is peace depicted? How do the representations of war and peace interact?

Again, these constructions require a great deal of thought and nuance to create a believable, meaningful story for the audience. They can all too easily devolve into a forced, over-simplified mess that the audience will tire of quickly.

In the end, we have to give our villains the same care and attention we afford our heroes. Otherwise, our story is just a human against a lifeless object, a tale that has no true stakes or meaning for the audience. We have to remember that, fundamentally, stories are about people. If the story becomes about puppets or objects, it’s no longer truly a story.

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