Judging the Process

“It’s my doom, I think, to go to that Shadow yonder, so a way will be found.  But will good or evil show it to me?”

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This week our text steers us back in time.  Rather than continue the narrative of Gandalf and company, we are suddenly following Sam & Frodo, whom we last saw at the end of Fellowship of the Ring.  The text informs us “It was the third evening since they had fled from the Company.”

Last week we discussed how Hobbits are swept up by the plot, rather than drivers of it.  This chapter, called “The Taming of Smeagol” further reinforces that point.  Frodo and Sam are lost in Emyn Muil, and though they slowly make their way towards Mordor, it is clearly their environment dictates their progress far more than their own efforts.

They can see Mordor occasionally, as the terrain rises and falls beneath them.  Sam despairs they will never reach their destination.  Frodo responds as above: “It’s my doom, I think, to go to that Shadow yonder, so a way will be found.  But will good or evil show it to me?”  (Quick note:  In our text, “doom” is a synonym for fate.)

It is his doom to go there.  He will get there.  He must get there.  It is almost beyond his control.  It is going to happen.  But how?  He ponders if it will be good or evil.

This seems to me to be the worst kind of fatalism.  "It will happen - I don't know how but it's going to happen." Can't we aim higher than that?  Or do the ends justify the means?

That is, of course, a pretty basic question.  The quintessential example is:  Would you kill an newborn baby if it ensured world peace.  Forget the mechanics of why this would work, let's pretend that that is the price.  Would you do it?

The answer splits people, of course.  But usually those who say yes need to justify their position, while those who say no don't need to justify.  "I wouldn't kill a newborn.". It doesn't seem like much to justify.  It's almost self-evident.  You shouldn't kill babies.

But that wasn't really the question.  Would you kill a newborn to ensure world peace?  If you don't kill the newborn, world peace is further delayed.

Let's say someone's answer is "No".  OK - then what responsibility does that person have to the suffering and deaths that happen because of their decision.  Choosing to kill the newborn makes the responsibility very clear.  Take an action, and you're responsible for the consequences.  But what if you abstain from an action?  Are you still responsible for the consequences?  Or are you able say "*I* am not engaging in war - therefore I am not responsible," even though you had a clear chance to stop it?

I'm unsure.  Do the ends ever justify the means?  What's the line?  I used to believe that, no, the ends did not justify the means.  My response to that question would be:  The means and the ends must justify themselves.  But justify them to whom?  And why?  Do we really want to know how a sausage is made if that sausage is delicious?

I've heard some say that the means justify the ends.  As long as your methods are good and righteous, your ends will be justified.  That sounds better, but what if your ends are worthless?  You try so hard not to hurt anyone that you accomplish nothing.  Participation trophies are a good example.  The idea is not bad, but it might be useless.  In that case, you've just wasted time.  You've acted rightly but with no useful result.  We don't remember great individuals because they were kind but did nothing, we remember them because they were successful in their field.  Success is the key.  The ends are, if nothing else, more important than the means.

I have a rule for myself when my students are doing project work - don't judge the process.  If students are talking or otherwise seeming distracted, remind them their work must get done, but don't judge the process until there is a result (or none where there should be one).  Some people work well in a quiet corner.  Some work better while talking to their friends.  Neither is better.

If I notice, say, by the end of class very little is done, then I can comment, but even then, I'm not really commenting on the process.  I only need to say, "You did not get much done - tomorrow you'll have to focus on getting up to speed." And then the next day, during class, remind the student that their process from yesterday did not work and they should try a new method.  (Ideally the students will know what I mean when I say it - in reality I'll need to spell things out more simply and guide the students with a firmer hand than I'd prefer).

Frodo will get to Mordor.  Will good or evil show him the way?  Does it make a difference?  If the Ring survives, all the Free Peoples are enslaved or destroyed.  As long as the evil that aids Frodo does not do that, the cost will be less than not getting to Mordor at all.  We should not judge the process.

But we will - we'll have to.  We're going to be following Frodo on his journey for the next 9 chapters.  We'll see what guides him, and we will judge the process.  But, I think we will be challenged in what is good and what is evil.  That binary division may not work as well as we may like.

At the end of the chapter, Gollum - who had been tracking the Fellowship from as far back as Moria - is captured by Frodo and Sam.  He promises to help them, swearing an oath with the Ring as a witness.  Frodo has found his guide.  But is he good or evil?  The text purposely clouds the issue.  It closes the chapter with these lines:

"From that moment [Gollum swore the oath] a change, which lasted for some time, came over him." Will this change last the length of our story?  If not, when does he revert to his old self?  As we rejoin Frodo and Sam on their fraught journey, paranoia and mistrust grows with every turn of the page.