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#keep in mind this topic is one i've done tertiary education level study on
erazonpo3 · 4 years
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It’s Era talks about topic of the day time, but I’m gonna do so in a way that’s more about our broader cultural perspectives on moral philosophy and how it relates to the narratives we tell. So
The topic of the Redemption Arc is one that’s come up in a big way pretty recently, and so the debate emerges- what makes a good redemption arc? I’m not really interested in answering that question. 
But what I will argue is that, as others have said before, a character should not have to endure suffering as a prerequisite for being redeemed; it is not necessary for their growth, it is not beneficial for their victims or the greater good, and encouraging it as a necessary part of a Redemption narrative (note that writers choosing to create conflict throughout a redemption arc can be a valid narrative decision) is just indulging in a sense of sadism that utilises a westernised conceptualisation of ‘justice’ to see a character they don’t like get put through the wringer before they can ‘earn’ love or compassion. 
I get it, the antagonist was an antagonist for a reason, and they probably did shitty things and you as an audience member are allowed to choose not to empathise with them (even though most narratives these days are driven by emotional character arcs that encourage empathy and compassion as a core value), or you can choose to empathise with them but still condemn them and their actions. However, what I’m going to go into in more detail is the fact that your personal feelings about an antagonist in a narrative don’t really hold any weight because the redemption narrative requires just as much empathy for the people who were affected by the antagonist’s actions just as much as it requires empathy for the antagonist themselves.
And if those characters choose forgiveness? You don’t get to argue the point because you prefer to frame justice as punishment for the wrongdoer rather than empowerment for the victim, in whatever form that may take. So here’s my extended take: if an antagonist suffering in order to earn their happy ending is more important to you than the good that comes out of a redemption, consider that no. 
Part 1 - We live in a society
There’s no easy way to break it to you, but I’m afraid we live in a society. Namely a Western society that is dominated largely by Christian cultural influences and authoritative bodies of governments with legal structures that are built on colonialism. Considering that western nations around the globe have historically dragged their feet in making changes like “human rights apply to all humans”, it’s fair to say this isn’t a great basis for our foundation of morality. 
I should also say that Christianity as a faith does not equal bad, but contemporary Christianity in modern society has an exorbitant focus on the fear of damnation, which goes hand in hand with the legal system as a form of coercive power. Furthermore I should clarify, I’m not saying laws are bad; I’m saying that a good thing is not good because it is law, and a law is not good because it is law. The authoritative bodies of western society rely on the fear of punitive justice for misdeeds rather than an encouragement of charity and cooperation because law and order is easier to maintain through fear than generosity. 
But I’m not here to make a statement about society, because that’s its whole own essay, but what I can say is that our moral codes are best made on our own terms and not by the people with a vested interest in keeping us lawful, because historically their idea of lawful is “you’re only human if you meet certain conditions”. Like, the government of my own country mailed me a non-legally-binding ballot to ask me if I thought letting people get gay married was a good idea. They’re not the people I’m letting dictate my morality to me, alright. 
Anyway the whole point of this section is to remind you that your ethical foundations likely come from institutional groups that encourage you to believe that justice = suffering, because people are scared of suffering, and people who are scared are easy to control. 
Part 2 - Redemption, and who gets to decide who gets it
I’m going to answer that right here right now- probably not you. That’s right! Even when we’re dealing with narratives, where the people are fake, it’s not really up to you to decide who gets to have their happy ending and who doesn’t if you’re not the person writing the thing. If you want that power… write the thing. 
But what you should also keep in mind is that redemption narratives usually start with a character recognising that they’ve done the wrong thing, expressing regret for that- which ideally leads to them never doing the thing again. From a purely pragmatic standpoint, this is the point in which everyone has to step back and remove their feelings from the situation and consider the bigger picture. You can give zero dogshits about an antagonist, but if you’re going to pretend to be a good and moral person you should probably consider their victims, be they direct or indirect. 
Starting with the indirect, we consider all the people who are part of this world’s society. I’m now going to introduce you to some fancy macroeconomics terminology called positive externalities and net social good. The principle is simple: when the government pays for somebody’s education and they go on to become a doctor, I benefit from this transaction despite having nothing to do with this because doctors good. The positive externality is that I benefit when the government pays for someone else’s education, and the net social good is that everyone else benefits as well.  
When it comes to crime, the general idea is that an offender who can be reformed and rehabilitated is less likely to commit future crimes once they’ve served their time, so any rehabilitation efforts contribute to net social good. Of course I have to state here that life is far more complicated than a simple black and white model of crime > reform > good, but the general idea is that where society can see improvement, an effort must be made to ensure said improvement. You don’t get to derail a net social positive in a demand for righteous justice because you said so.
Demanding righteous justice even when there’s no benefit to society is how you get the death penalty remaining in 28 US states- despite being incredibly inefficient and expensive compared to life-without-parole sentencing (and who knows how many incorrect verdicts that can never be reversed)- as a result. Yay. 
Moving on to the direct victims, you have to accept that these characters with personal stakes are likely going to have different reactions to their antagonist depending on the severity of the circumstances and their own characterisation, moral code etc. Reflecting real life, narratives give us an array of characters who have different ethical standpoints and responses to their situations. And if a character decides to forgive their antagonist? Hey ho you don’t get to be the one who says “actually, no-”. 
Forgiveness is a kind of forgotten virtue of mental health these days, in no small part due to misguided advice from people who have no idea what they’re talking about. Forgiveness means very different things to very different people. There are people who can forgive the murderers of their family. There are people who hold grudges about the pettiest shit imaginable. Forgiveness isn’t a slap-a-bandaid on answer to finding closure, but when it is applicable it is incredibly empowering. 
When you are an audience member projecting your emotions onto a protagonist, of course it’s easy to say “I’d just hate that person forever!” because you’re not the one who carries that burden. Hating people is exhausting. Unless they’re doing societal harm, it’s probably not worth the emotional investment to hate them. If you can find closure through forgiveness, it’s not up to anyone else to tell you that that person doesn’t deserve it or that you’re a pushover because of that. Mental health comes first. 
It’s personal anecdote time, so here’s a small warning for mentions of sexual assault. Obviously I’m not going to go into the details because that’s weird and unnecessary, but what you need to know is that there were two different incidents with two different endings. Person A went on with their lives as I went on with mine and I don’t know how they feel about the incident but based on what I know of them, I’m not given reason to assume they regret it. Person B was a friend who hurt me in a pretty ugly way but immediately regretted what they’d done and gave me a very sincere apology both straight after and later again to assure me they understood what they’d done wrong. I forgave them, because I valued their friendship and I cared about them and I trusted that they were sincere, and I don’t regret that decision. 
Because between the person who worked to be in a place where I was comfortable to forgive them and the person who will never give me that chance, which do you think gave me any kind of satisfying closure?
The point of that anecdote isn’t to say every character has to be like me. It’s a perfectly valid reaction for someone to say “you’ve worked hard to be a better person and I’m glad for that but I’ll still never be able to forgive you for what you did to me” because I’ve been there as well. Forgiveness isn’t the key to a prior antagonist’s redemption arc because their self improvement should be entirely self-driven and not reliant on another person. However I argue that a prior antagonist should be allowed to work towards redemption to provide their victim a sense of agency- if forgiveness comes with conditions, they should strive to meet those conditions. 
And that’s the crux of the matter. 
A redemption for the sake of the character being redeemed is only one part of a big picture about recovering from trauma. They should strive to be a better person for their own sake and for the sake of others, so that their redemption serves as a net social good. They should strive to be a better person so that the people they’ve hurt might be able to find closure in the fact that they’re trying hard to be a person who can be forgiven, whether or not those victims actually choose forgiveness or not. 
Forcing a character to suffer for your own vindictive self-righteousness deprives this outcome, denies the victims their agency and closure, creates a neutral or negative externality in which the prior antagonist either performs no future good or goes back down a path of criminality, all because you believe they deserve to suffer more than you want actual justice. 
And that’s, like, bad.
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