On what is easier

This week we read another double portion, "Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbits" & "The Window on the West."  In these chapters, we meet Faramir, Boromir's younger, but considerably wiser brother.  I usually don't like writing about Faramir because he is too wise.  He doesn't err and he has very few faults.  From the very start he says he is not interested in Isildur's Bane (This was the line of poetry which set Boromir on his quest to Rivendell - No one in Gondor knows it refers to the One Ring).

But I hit upon an idea for how to frame thinking about him which I think is illuminating.  Faramir is living an ethical life.  Through examination of his actions we can see how to identify when we (and others) are in it for the ethics and not in it for the power.  Let's begin with Faramir's first response when he learns Frodo and Sam may have Isildur's Bane:

‘But fear no more! I would not take this thing, if it lay by the highway.
Not were Minas Tirith falling in ruin and I alone could save her, so, using

the weapon of the Dark Lord for her good and my glory. No, I do not wish for such triumphs...

War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would

devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the

arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that

which they defend: the city of the Men of Numenor; and I would

have her loved for her memory, her ancientry, her beauty, and her

present wisdom. Not feared, save as men may fear the dignity of a man, old and wise.'

And a line previous, in which he guesses at Boromir's downfall (His on-the-nose guesses are one of the things I think make him wise to the point of dullness):

‘What in truth this Thing [Isildur's Bane], is I cannot yet guess; but some heirloom of power

and peril it must be. A fell weapon, perchance, devised by the Dark Lord. If it were a

thing that gave advantage in battle, I can well believe that Boromir, the proud and fearless,

often rash, ever anxious for the victory of Minas Tirith (and his own glory therein), might

desire such a thing and be allured by it. Alas that ever he went on that errand! I should

have been chosen by my father and the elders, but he put himself forward, as being

the older and the hardier (both true), and he would not be stayed.'

But perhaps Faramir was acutely aware of his brother's weaknesses.  Maybe he saw how Boromir's desire for their father's approval, or his attraction to glory, undermined the stout-hearted man he could otherwise be.  We see here Boromir doesn't seek the Ring just because he wants its power.  He wants the Ring because he wants to be a savior.  He wants to be loved and believes saving Minas Tirith will earn him that love.  Would it?  Probably - at least for the moment.  But, as we've discussed before, it wouldn't end there (refer to the link above about power).  Either Denethor and the people's love would need to be placated again and again, to Boromir's dismay, or - if their love was permanently earned - he would seek love from others, or glory in new places.  Placing so much value on the approval of others is a great danger to Boromir.

Faramir, though, is guided by his principles. He has decided what is right and what is wrong. Maybe he is capital-W wrong about those things, but they are a defined category. He doesn't need to be seen loving what the sword defends or not slaying needlessly or declining triumphs. That's the problem of virtue signaling - not that it's bad to be seen doing good (we may inspire others to do good!) - but that we are doing good in order to be seen.

Then again - who cares why we donate to the poor, and if we get some prestige out of it what's the harm? Because eventually, as we fear for Boromir, that will not be enough. We'll need to also give away the shirt off our back, our leisure hours, our vacation plans, etc. And when those things are not enough to please the crowd, what then? Further, if we give charity for the recognition, will we be charitable when no one is watching?

Worse - and I think more realistic currently - what if those we wish to be seen by neglect to cheer? Or if the crowd has turned against charity. Then, tethered to their approval, we must find something else. Our actions, it turns out, were not driven by ethics, but by approval - and the power that comes with being seen doing good. Even if we manage to find a new group that will praise our original actions, we still seem to need the group's - any group's - praise.

Faramir has a code of ethics. If he decides to kill he will use whatever evaluation method he's come up with. Even if his method is wrong, it will be more predictable than appealing to the crowd.

This is how he's able to resist the Ring. Not just resist it, but seem invincible to it just as Tom Bombadil was! Tom is also unaffected by the approval of others, but his code of ethics is one of balance with a dash of plain kindness, whereas Faramir's seem more noble to me. Still, things end better for Tom than Boromir.

So Faramir is living for his ethics. Let's see what example he sets for the rest of us. First, an early scene with him: Sam wakes up to find Faramir questioning Frodo about Boromir, whom Frodo has said was with him when he set out on the Quest. Faramir tells Frodo Boromir has died. Frodo is surprised to hear this. The two of them put together that Boromir died the same day Frodo left. This obviously raises Faramir's suspicions. Sam, unable to take this line of questioning, runs up and stands between the two of them.

‘See here!’ [Sam] said [to Faramir]. ‘What are you driving at? Let’s come to the point before all
the Orcs of Mordor come down on us! If you think my master murdered this
Boromir and then ran away, you’ve got no sense; but say it, and have done! And then let us know
what you mean to do about it. But it’s a pity that folk as talk about fighting the Enemy can’t
let others do their bit in their own way without interfering. He’d be mighty
pleased, if he could see you now. Think he’d got a new friend, he would.’

‘Patience!’ said Faramir, but without anger. ‘Do not speak before your master, whose wit is greater than yours.
And I do not need any to teach me of our peril. Even so, I spare a brief time, in order to judge
justly in a hard matter. Were I as hasty as you, I might have slain you long ago.
For I am commanded to slay all whom I find in this land without the leave of the Lord of Gondor.
But I do not slay man or beast needlessly, and not gladly even when it is needed.’

Because he is committed to his principles, and not to getting the compliments of people, Faramir can take his time.  If Boromir wants glory for defeating the enemy, he has to be the one to do it.  That means he has to do it first, which presses speed upon him, which prevents him from being thoughtful.  But Faramir can be patient - unlike Sam who is tethered to Frodo and must act quickly if something goes wrong.  Faramir is willing to defy orders if he thinks those orders are wrong.

(While this may seem an example of being "tethered to others" that isn't necessarily wrong think it is because when Frodo gives in to the Ring Sam is unwilling to do anything about it.  Would he defy Frodo's commands if they were wrong?  If Gollum wasn't also at the Crack of Doom, would Sam have let Middle Earth burn for the sake of his friend?)

 ‘I would not snare even an orc with a falsehood,’ said Faramir.

Faramir will not lie to get his way - not even to an orc. He doesn't need to trick anybody, his principles are holding him firm enough that he is confident in a fair fight. He might still lose, and we should not be naive about that, but it is admirable nonetheless.

‘But, Frodo, I pressed you hard at first about Isildur’s Bane. Forgive me!
It was unwise in such an hour and place. I had not had time for thought.

When Faramir apologizes to Frodo it is precisely for acting too quickly and not giving the matter enough thought. He has the tools to do the right thing, but of course must consult them regularly. Our principles will rarely become our instincts.

Finally, let's revisit one of the first passages I highlighted:

If it were a thing that gave advantage in battle, I can well believe that
Boromir, the proud and fearless, often rash, ever anxious for the victory of Minas
Tirith (and his own glory therein), might desire such a thing and be allured by it.
Alas that ever he went on that errand! I should have been chosen by my father
and the elders, but he put himself forward, as being

the older and the hardier (both true), and he would not be stayed.'

Though Faramir would have been better suited to go to Rivendell, it is precisely his cool-headedness that allowed Boromir's boldness to sideline him.  Here we can see those best equipped for a task may not be willing to say so and we should be willing to advocate on their behalf when the time comes.  Those who are self-assured may be led astray by that same feeling.

Not only did Gondor fail Middle Earth by not sending Faramir, but it also failed Boromir by sending him on a mission he could not handle.  He was in it for the glory.  Better Boromir be left home, raving against father and brother for preventing a chance at praise, than to let him fall to the temptation.

I've long said ethics is doing the harder thing.  But I've continually avoided defining the obvious question - harder than what?  When I first tried to answer this I had said refraining from extremes.  I still think that's true, but I also think it's too abstract to be much use.  I think now we have a more concrete answer.

Ethics is doing the harder thing.  The easier thing is listening to peer pressure and our own desire for recognition.  Who doesn't like a kind word and a warm smile?  The hope others will speak well of us?  When those are our rewards it's easy to get ourselves to do anything.  That could mean donating to charity but it could also mean making our neighborhood Judenfrei.  To live ethically we need to resist that temptation.  We need something more predictable and stable - we need principles.  I think even wrong principles are preferable to none since one can later learn and adopt new and better principles.  It is the practice of having principles, more than the principles themselves, that is the key to an ethical life.

Having principles to refer to can shield us from the desire to please others.  Not completely, of course; we're only human!   But the sooner we can commit to a principle - any principle - the better it will be for our pursuit of an ethical life.  Attempting to live an ethical life by seeking the approval of others is like following a plastic bag blowing in the wind hoping it will bring you peace.

This is part one of what became a two-part post.  Read the second part here.

This had been a patreon-supported project, but that proved too annoying to maintain.  If you would like to financially support this project, drop $1.11 (or any amount, I suppose) into my Venmo!

ChatGPT contributed about 1% to this post's final version.  But it was an important 1% because I really wanted to stick the landing on that final sentence.

On working together

This week we read "The Black Gate is Closed.  In this chapter, Gollum has brought the Hobbits to the Black Gate.  But not only is it physically closed, as the title suggests, it is well-guarded.

Frodo announces his intent to enter through the gate, which sends Gollum into a frenzy.  Frodo insists that he must enter Mordor, and Gollum says he knows another way, which would be safer, if Frodo is really committed to what Gollum often reminds him is a dangerous plan.

To all appearances Gollum was genuinely distressed and
anxious to help Frodo.  But Sam, remembering the overheard
debate, found it hard to believe that the long submerged Smeagol
had come out on top... Sam's guess was that the Smeagol and Gollum
halves (or what in his own mind he called Slinker and Stinker) had made a
truce and a temporary alliance: neither wanted the Enemy to the get the
Ring; both wished to keep Frodo from capture, and under their eye.

(A bit of context: Previously Sam had awoken during the night and he overheard Gollum having an argument with himself.  He heard him say "She" can help him get back the Ring.  He concludes Gollum has an ally he intends to lead them to.)

Smeagol and Gollum both want the Ring back.  Their disagreement is largely about whether to kill Frodo for it.  They have sworn to serve the master of the Precious - they never once swear to serve Frodo by name.   A loophole has been found!  If they can take the Ring then they can still be loyal to the oath.  But Smeagol would still rather not kill Frodo if he can avoid it.

But they definitely absolutely agree Sauron should not get back the Ring, and that Frodo should remain in their company.  Both of these objectives serve their common goal of getting back the Ring.  This makes Sam very suspicious of even the kinder Smeagol.

What can we make of this partnership?  Sam's suspicion is justified - but that doesn't mean this partnership is wholly bad. 

I've tried to keep away from politics this year, as leading an ethical life is much more than politics.  But this seems like the right time to break the seal, as it were, and delve in.

My wife, Sam, and I do not agree on everything.  We have different preferences, as well as practical disagreements, like how to organize the living room.  We also have political disagreements.  If I have such disagreements with someone whom I love and speak to every day, I should expect to have disagreements with others.  I should especially expect to have disagreements with politicians whom I don't know personally.

A politician I vote for (or even one I don't) is supposed to be my representative in the government.  I don't have the time or inclination to understand the details of every single policy, and even the ones I care about... well I have a limited bandwidth.  So I try to reach out to those elected to represent me.  This is a new practice of mine.  I want to my preferred views known to those who represent me.  We all should - how else will they know?

And I don't just mean nationally, but state and locally, too.  In fact, I find I more regularly get a real response from local politicians.

But my power as a single voter is small.  I should find others to cooperate with.  Let's take prescription drugs - I think there should be a cap on those costs.  If I meet a Republican who also thinks that, I can work with him on this topic.  A Trump supporter at the capitol on January 6th?  As long as this time she'll use legitimate means, yes!  A communist who thinks all medication should be freely provided by the state according to the people's needs?  If they're willing to accept the baby steps of lower costs on their path to zero cost, sure!

Now I can go to that politician and say "Hey, I have a group of people who think X, and are willing to vote on it.  Will you do what it takes to earn our vote?"  Maybe we grow to 100.  Maybe we become a political action committee and run ads, urging voters to prioritize this issue and getting on the politician's radar that way.

We may have divergent views on many other things.  Demanding perfect alignment on everything to agitate for change on one thing dooms us to failure quickly.  We may be suspicious of each other - the Communist is right to worry we abandon them on their long-term plans.  The Trump supporter may worry this policy win will advantage Biden.  I may worry the law will pass but not come into effect later, when we possibly have a Republican president who can take credit.  We may have a temporary alliance, but to focus on the temporary nature obscures the real alliance between us.  The one permanent bond in my life I've committed to is to Sam (My wife, not the hobbit - though they are both gardeners) .  That doesn't mean I should scoff at other potential opportunities for cooperation.  Life is fleeting.  We can't let temporal limits stop us from making gains where we can.  Everything is a limited time offer, technically.

Sam (the hobbit), unwittingly, is also part of this temporary alliance. Sam also doesn't want Frodo captured or for Sauron to take back the Ring.  He'll have to be careful to offload their cooperation when they try to go their own direction, but it's doubtless their help will be valuable to him.  It's true that Frodo's plan to approach the Black Gate is doomed to failure, and it is not Sam who knows of an alternative way in.

Sam has the benefit of despair.  In our lives, we can imagine a perfect candidate and be reasonably hopefully they'll appear.  Sam's situation is so much worse that he doesn't have time for such dreams.  He has to take what he can.

I think we'd benefit from that reality-check, too.  A perfect candidate may one day appear.  Will they appear by this upcoming November?  Doubtful.  But potholes don't get fixed on their own.  That's something a wide contingent of voters probably want fixed.  Organizing a bloc of voters who demand re-pavement as a local priority is easier than many other priorities I can think of.

While we've been discussing politics here, I've still made a conscious effort to avoid national politics, for as Big Deal as that is, we live in a country with layers of elected officials.  Whoever gets elected to the White House isn't going to affect whether the park you live near is properly cared for, or if the public transit improves.  National issues matter, of course, but we can affect local ones much more.  And if we don't, someone else will.  So get heard and get organized.

If you're looking for a great book on this topic which I just finished reading and highly recommend, check out Politics is for Power by Eitan Hersh.  If you're interested, I got some extra copies I'd be happy to lend out.  Or check your local library.

This had been a patreon-supported project, but that proved too annoying to maintain.  If you would like to financially support this project, drop $1.11 (or any amount, I suppose) into my Venmo!

ChatGPT contributed about 15% to this post's final version.

On death

This week we read "The Passage of the Marshes," which details Frodo and Sam's growing partnership with Gollum.  He has lead them out of Emyn Muil, and now guides them through dangerous marshland.

But beyond the regular dangers of a marshland - namely sinking beneath the weeds and water - these marshes hold another risk, which Sam discovers when he looks beneath the surface of the water.

‘There are dead things, dead faces in the water,’ he said with horror. ‘Dead faces!’...
‘Yes, yes,’ said Gollum. ‘All dead, all rotten. Elves and Men and Orcs.
The Dead Marshes. There was a great battle long ago, yes, so they told him when
Smeagol was young, when I was young before the Precious came. It was a great battle.
Tall Men with long swords, and terrible Elves, and Orcses shrieking. They fought on
the plain for days and months at the Black Gates. But the Marshes have grown since
then, swallowed up the graves; always creeping, creeping.’
‘But that is an age and more ago,’ said Sam. ‘The Dead can’t be
really there! Is it some devilry hatched in the Dark Land?’
‘Who knows? Smeagol doesn’t know,’ answered Gollum. ‘You cannot reach them, you
cannot touch them. We tried once, yes, precious. I tried once; but you cannot reach them.
Only shapes to see, perhaps, not to touch. No precious! All dead.’

It's an interesting observation that Middle Earth experiences evil, or at least something unsettling, that may not be the work of Sauron.  Certainly, Sam assumes he must be behind it, but we know that isn't necessarily true.

So why do these dead remain?  It seems obvious they were left on the field to rot - swallowed up by the fens.  But why would the Elves and Men allow that?  Impossible to know.

There are a few spirits in Middle Earth we meet throughout our text.  The Nazgul, the oathbreakers of Dunharrow whom Aragorn summons, and the Barrow-wights.  The first two suffer from unfinished business.  The Nazgûl are bound to the Ring, and the Dead Army are bound to their oath.  The Barrow-wights's reason for being is much less clear.  The text mentions "Barrow-wights walked in the hollow places with a clink of rings on cold fingers, and gold chains in the wind," (although when the hobbits are captured by the Barrow-wights they appear suddenly and silently).  The Barrow-wights are, in some ways, tied to their material wealth.  But what about these spirits?

We don't get any information about them beyond this chapter.  They end up being just one of many references that make Middle Earth feel very, very large - but perhaps full only of loose ends and incomplete ideas.  There may be some explanation in the appendices, but for these write-ups I always try to stay to the main text.  I could never properly refer to all of Tolkien's writing without much more time, which I don't have.  I also, frankly, don't think have much interest.  I find Middle Earth lore, largely, dull.

Death is inevitable.  Would it be better to return as a spirit, or to go onward?  Our text makes it clear that remaining behind is bad.  None of these spirits are doing good in the world, or are happy about remaining.  While we might plausibly argue the Nazgûl could be happy about serving their master in perpetuity, I think within the text that is impossible.  Orcs can experience joy, though their laughter is generally harsh and their smiles vicious.  The Nazgûl are associated with despair.  They don't serve Sauron out of loyalty or love.

Death is inevitable, but the Ring thwarts death.  Gollum and Bilbo both live unnaturally long.  Gollum's life becomes one of suffering and loyalty without love - this is true before he loses the Ring.  We see Bilbo occasionally give into the Ring's temptation, and know in those moments he is not overwhelmed with joy.  While Frodo doesn't have the Ring long enough to impact his lifespan, it does suck the joy out of his life.  He experiences very little on his journey - and even after it is gone.

Whether ghosts exist or not is beyond my scope.  Certainly dying with unfinished business is unfair, because now someone else must finish it - or deal with the consequences.  Being bound to the material world too much has obvious ethical problems, too.  If ethics is doing the harder thing, giving up physical things is usually the more ethical choice.

Our text is teaching us to be wary of people and ideas that promise for immortality.  The Elves, we know, pay a price for theirs.  Death is inevitable, and attempts to circumvent it would have consequences beyond which we can prepare for.  Death is inevitable, so plan for it.  Include others in your business as much as possible, so when you do go the unfinished business at least isn't suddenly hoisted on others.  You don't have to carry it all, and you shouldn't anyway.  People are more willing to help than maybe you realize - they perhaps want to help.  When you die, they're going to have to help.  You ought to let them help while you're around, so that you can see their skills for yourself, offer assistance as appropriate, and then, when you go, you'll be more confident the work will continue to be done - and you'll have made some human connections along the way.

This had been a patreon-supported project, but that proved too annoying to maintain.  If you would like to financially support this project, drop $1.11 (or any amount, I suppose) into my Venmo!

ChatGPT contributed about 10% to this post's final version.

On opposites?

Hello everyone, and welcome back to our regular format, which is simply easier for me to do.  It's hard writing a conversation between two disembodied voices - who knew!

Anyway, this week we begin book four, which reconnects us with Sam and Frodo.  Having fled from the rest of the company, they must push on towards Mordor.  But they also know they are being tracked by Gollum, who wants the Ring back.

The chapter is called "The Taming of Smeagol," and it is not long before he indeed finds them.  They see him, too, climbing down a cliff towards them.

Sam restrained himself, though his fingers
were twitching. His eyes, filled with anger and disgust,
were fixed on the wretched creature...

Gollum falls from the rocks he is climbing and Sam takes the opportunity to pounce on him.  Even caught unawares like this Gollum is a fierce foe.  Frodo has to intervene, Sting unsheathed and at Gollum's neck.  They have captured him!

But he soon tries to escape.  They stop him, and determine they must tie him up.  Sam goes to retrieve his Elvish rope.

‘And where were you off to in the cold hard lands,
Mr. Gollum?’ [Sam] growled. ‘We wonders, aye, we wonders. To find some of
your orc-friends, I warrant. You nasty treacherous creature. It’s round your
neck this rope ought to go, and a tight noose too.’
Gollum lay quiet and tried no further tricks.
He did not answer Sam, but gave him a swift venomous look.

Sam and Gollum are very different characters.  Sam is selfless and dedicated to Frodo.  Gollum is deceitful and selfish, unless loyalty to the Ring counts.  I don't think it should, because it's probably not a willing loyalty.

But the hatred they are capable of is similar, as is the purpose behind their stares.  Sam stares at Gollum when he is out of reach, and Gollum stares at Sam when he cannot hurt him.  But they both want to harm the other, and they are both worried one will kill the other.  Sam has already proven the point.  It is he who lunges first at a defenseless Gollum, as he fell from the rocks.  Sam is not looking for an honorable duel.

Gollum, we know, will spend the rest of this book biding his time, waiting for the hobbits to be vulnerable enough for him to attack.  He will not hesitate when that time comes, nor fret over his unfair advantage.

But stares from afar can be interpreted both as "I am making a plan to strike when able" and "I am powerless to do anything else."  When you can strike, you don't glare at your enemy as if you can shoot lasers from your eyes.  You don't imagine all the wonderful ways you'll overcome them, you just do it even if it's a bit messy, imprecise, or uncertain.  Similarly, when someone suggests grand plans to do something, it might be that they are really planning on completing those plans.  But the plans might also be expressing a sense of powerlessness.  Unable to know where to begin, they just imagine the situation they want.

I have a friend who relatively recently moved to Alaska as preparation for climate change.  I'm not really sure this will help him as he imagines.  I don't think its counter-productive, either.  But it's an awfully grand gesture which will feel good.  I don't mean that dismissively - it is fine to pursue things that feel good.  If he is as powerless in the face of climate change as I think he is (as an individual), then this is at least something to combat that feeling.  "I did what I could," even what he did wasn't helpful.

When we see ourselves imagining grand changes we're not actually empowered to do, we should catch ourselves and ask why.  It can be fun, or cathartic, but it's not empowering.  It's fine to do things fun and cathartic, but we shouldn't fool ourselves about the direct usefulness.

When we hear others, or ourselves, presenting One Weird Tricks we should stop listening.  Frustration is a powerful emotion, but thinking the world will be solved if just everyone listened doesn't take into account the realities of this world.  One solution won't work for everyone, and trying to push such a thing will just increase your frustration, etc etc.  Or it does work and now you're a tyrant, and that's Bad.  Obviously, none of us have the ability to become tyrant of the world, but it is possible to do so within our family, friends, workplace, etc.  We should watch ourselves within the realms we can actually amass power.

Sam and Gollum both get the opportunity to act on their fantasies.  Both fail miserably.  What works, for Frodo and for Aragorn and company (And, at least almost, for Gollum), is to take problems one step at a time, keeping an ultimate goal in mind.  Frodo believes Gollum may be a necessary ally for some of their journey.  If Sam kills him and then they starve in Emyn Muil, what then?  For Gollum, killing Sam would just alienate Frodo from him further, thus making it harder for him to get the Ring from him.

"We're not so different, you and I," Sam and Gollum might say to each other.  But in this way the Creative Wizard shows such glares are never productive, whether pursued in service of a friend or the self.  Powerlessness is not a strength, and imagining success is not a strategy.

As an aside, I've always found it peculiar Gollum dies at Mt Doom by losing his footing and just... falling.  He isn't described as a character prone to those kinds of accidents.  And yet the first time he enters our narrative as a real character, that's exactly what happens.  Sam doesn't heckle him.  Gollum doesn't see the hobbits and is startled.  He just loses his footing.  I hadn't ever noticed this before.

In this case he survives, but next time won't be so lucky.  I don't know what lesson to draw from this but intend to pay more attention to descriptions of Gollum's climbing ability.  Maybe it isn't as strong as I think it is...

This had been a patreon-supported project, but that proved too annoying to maintain.  If you would like to financially support this project, drop $1.11 (or any amount, I suppose) into my Venmo!

ChatGPT contributed about 0% to this post's final version, because I wrote it all on Saturday.  I hope in the future to use it more in this format, but we shall see.

On evil

(As I announced elsewhere, after this week I'll go back to my previous format.  Writing in this style is stressful.  But then, sue to an issue with my schedule, I didn't even begin this final dialogue post until 9:23 PM on Sunday.  To be honest, I just wanna get it over with.  My bedtime is 10:30.  I hope to be done at 10.  And 3...2...1...)

This week we read "Palantír," the final chapter in our third book. In it, Pippin looks into the Palantír that was recovered from Orthanc, with terrible consequences. Well, maybe not so terrible. The Palantír, a seeing stone, connects with another one in Mordor. It's how Saruman and Sauron communicated - and how Saruman fell to temptation. So Pippin gets connected to Sauron, who immediately thinks this is the hobbit bearing the Ring. Gandalf points out this is very good for Frodo - not only does Sauron not think Frodo is trying to destroy it, he now thinks the Ring is in Orthanc, and must be retrieved from there.

The group is later talking about this turn of fortune.

‘At last we know the link between Isengard
and Mordor, and how it worked. Much is explained.’  [said Aragorn]

Strange powers have our enemies, and strange weaknesses!’ said Theoden. ‘But
it has long been said: oft evil will shall evil mar.’

‘That many times is seen,’ said Gandalf

"Why is it so that evil will shall evil mar?"
"Evil is inherently selfish.  It seeks to hoard the profit.  The Free Peoples cooperate.  The destruction of the Ring will benefit them all.  Well, perhaps not the Elves."
"So though Isengard and Mordor were linked, only one could ever have the Ring."
"It is, of course, the One Ring."
"Is that what makes it evil, perhaps?  That it, by its nature, cannot be shared?  Cooperation with the Ring is not possible.  Only patronage, or dependency."
"If evil is inherently selfish, is being selfish inherently evil?"
"Evil may be a strong word for all situations.  But we should promote selflessness or selfishness whenever we can."
"Can being selfless ever be evil?"
"That seems unlikely, unless one is only feigning selflessness - but then one is not being selfless."
"The Elves, then, are the most selfless of the races, then.  The destruction of the Ring will further their downfall - but they know this is better than the alternative."
"It is wisdom to see two bad alternatives and, rather than despair at the situation, to embrace the better one."
"Except that the eucatastrophe suggests always delaying.  Good could just be around the corner."
"Or more evil."
"The evil Theoden speaks of is not the same.  Saruman's evil, wanting the Ring for himself, and Sauron's evil, also wanting the Ring for himself."
"Sure sounds the same."
"Well, right, but we said preciously it's not possible for both of them to get it.  One evil will shall mar another evil.  They cannot both win."
"How can we use this?  To ensure multiple evils, so we need not fight them alone?"
"One schoolyard bully surely has more power than two put together.  Their struggle for domination would distract them from the actual domination."
"But we cannot empower evil - even to fight it!  One bully must fall, and then the other has dominion."
"We could empower dozen, to ensure each is far from total dominion."
"To disempower evil we multiply it??"
"Destroying evil is the ideal, of course.  If we cannot, then we should seek to manage it.  Evil marring evil is better than evil marring innocent."
"It is as Theoden says - strange!"
"There is another use for this teaching.  When deciding if you are good or if you are evil, determine what happens if you win.  Will the many benefit, or will you?  Will your partners grow equally, or will their dependence on you deepen?  If you are serving another, is this because they will empower the many, or are you hoping to get a favorable payoff from them?  It may not be evil, exactly, but if all you're doing is rearranging the distribution of power, rather than undermining the power itself, you may not be doing good."
"There is yet another teaching from here.  Those who selflessly embrace their own demise, as the Elves do.  Do they do so gracefully, or do they do so hoping to reap a reward for their selflessness?"
"Then it is not selfless."
"Exactly.  If one wishes to be a martyr, we cannot always stop them.  But if one wishes to be a martyr and profit off of it - this is not a trait of the Free Peoples.  The Elves embrace their end, though perhaps with reluctance.  Theoden learns to embrace the evil days he has inherited.  Sam, and especially Frodo, will embrace the hopelessness and the costs of the Task.  It is Saruman, and Gollum, and Denethor who will rage madly against it - who will claim their sacrifices have not been compensated, their genius not recognized.  Watch out for those people, who claim payment nobody feels is owed.  It is the responsibility of each to give what they can, and to request what they believe is fairness in return.  If the agreement is not acknowledged, that is injustice.  But to freely give, and then demand a price later - that is a greater injustice."
*Ding!  10:02*
"Aah, we come to the end."
"It has been good talking to you, my friend."
"And you as well.  Join me by the river?"
"Where we can discuss ethics?"
"That, and so much more."

The two interlocutors leave their house of study, take off their shoes, and sit with their feet in the cool river.  Reaching into their pockets, they take out a cake of lembas bread, unwrap the leaves around it, and make a toast.

This had been a patreon-supported project, but that proved too annoying to maintain.  If you would like to financially support this project, drop $1.11 (or any amount, I suppose) into my Venmo!

ChatGPT contributed about 0% to this post's final version.  But returning to my old format, I hope to use it much more.  It's not very good for this kind of writing at all.

This note is a reminder to myself to add some links.  Given the time crunch I'd given myself for the day of, I didn't bother.  But there are a few references worth making.

On laughter

This week we read "The Voice of Saruman."  Gandalf and company confront Saruman at Orthanc, and we get to see Saruman's much hinted at magic - specifically the charming magic of his voice.  He speaks to Theoden and then to Gandalf, trying to persuade not only them (to agree with him) but also to those around them (so that if they disagree, they'll be alienated by the others).  Saruman gives a long speech to Gandalf, inviting him up so they can plan "to heal the disorders of the world."

So great was the power that Saruman exerted in this last effort that none that stood
within hearing were unmoved. But now the spell was wholly different.

They heard the gentle remonstrance of a kindly king with an erring

but much-loved minister. But they were shut out, listening at a door to words
not meant for them: ill-mannered children or stupid servants overhearing the elusive

discourse of their elders, and wondering how it would affect their lot.
Of loftier mould these two were made: reverend and wise.

It was inevitable that they should make alliance. Gandalf would ascend into the tower,
to discuss deep things beyond their comprehension in the high chambers of Orthanc.

The door would be closed, and they would be left outside, dismissed to await 

allotted work or punishment. Even in the mind of Theoden the thought took shape, 

like a shadow of doubt: ‘He will betray us; he will go – we shall be lost.’

Then Gandalf laughed. The fantasy vanished like a puff of smoke.

"Why is this laughter so powerful?"
"All laughter is powerful, because it breaks control.  Control requires seriousness.  Laughter is associated with freedom - freedom to have fun and to play to take chances, to make mistakes, to get messy."
"Can you control with laughter?"
"I don't think that's possible.  If the person in control laughs, that would signal you have a lot of freedom - even if you have a serious goal.  And if the person in control who laughs sees what you did and stops laughing - you've either achieved something great or made a grave mistake."
"So great leaders do not laugh?"
"No!  Great leaders, we would hope, laugh regularly.  But great leaders inspire - they do not control."
"How can we know the difference?"
"Great leaders will point to a destination and say "Let us get there."  They may consider certain methods off-limits but generally will be open to suggestion.  Controllers already have a plan.  More than that, they are committed to it, and want people only as tools - not as people."
"How can we counter those who seek control?"
"Resistance can come in many forms.  But laughter is the best."
"Why do you say so?"
"If you fight back through more deliberate means people may wonder if it is because you seek to be the one in control.  They'll do a whole cost-benefit analysis of the current situation, and decide what is best for them on that basis.  And as people want different things, a movement may scatter before it properly begins.  But people naturally wish to laugh.  Laughter is contagious.  Laughter is disruptive.  Laughter can be faked, but less successfully than faked good-will. It is even more difficult to control it."
"So laughter is best because it's only use is freedom."
"Correct.  The means and the ends must both be justified - and freedom is the most just cause of all."
"Not justice?"
"With freedom, you are able to pursue it.  And if others will not, you are free to attempt to persuade them."
"What if they won't listen?"
"Sounds like you want control, and if that's the route you take it will be perilous.  You will have to rule by fear, and quash all hints of laughter.  Your tyranny will rule over you, as well, as your subjects will always be looking for weakness."
"Laughter will break all chains."
"The freedom to laugh is a precious one.  Beware of those who try attempt to proscribe it.  Be as Gandalf, and laugh whenever the emperor has no clothes, not only for your own good, but for the benefit of others, as well.
"What about cruel laughter?"
"Our text regularly tells of different kind of laughter:  'Merry' and 'soft,' but also 'grim,' 'harsh,' 'chilling,' 'deadly,' and 'wild howls of laughter.'  Laughter which is not described, we should assume, is genuine and good.  As readers, it is hard not to smile along in those latter instances.  So if one sees cruel laughter, it is the cruelty which must be dealt with - not the laughter."
"All tools can be turned to evil."
"The right response, then, is to wrest the tools from evildoers.  We do not have to destroy them."
"The tools or the evildoers?"
"The tools is what I meant.  They can be turned to good.  As for the evildoers....  I hope the same can be said for them, too.

This had been a patreon-supported project, but that proved too annoying to maintain.  If you would like to financially support this project, drop $1.11 (or any amount, I suppose) into my Venmo!

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On integrity

This week is another double portion, where we read "The Road to Isengard" & "Flotsam and Jetsam."  In these chapters, Gandalf and Theoden and everyone else goes to Isengard to confront Saruman, now that his whole army is defeated.  As they enter Isengard, they reunite with Merry and Pippin, and the party splits up - Theoden and Gandalf go on while the Hunters and the Hobbits sat and chat.

In the first chapter, Gandalf announces he is going to Isengard.  Theoden worries they don't have the strength to take it, but Gandalf assures him he has already been defeated and that they "go to a parley, not to a fight."

‘I wish to speak with Saruman, as soon as may be now,’ said Gandalf,
‘and since he has done you great injury, it would be fitting
if you were there. But how soon and how swiftly will you ride?’

"Why does Gandalf say it is fitting?"
"Because Saruman should face the one he has hurt.  Partly to see the results of his actions, and partly so that, if there is an apology, it can go to the aggrieved, and not simply into the ether."
"I find another reason.  So if he does not apologize, Theoden can see it."
"Theoden gets closure either way."
"And nuance.  Does Saruman seem ashamed, but unable to yet apologize?  Is he still proud, and has not yet processed his defeat?  Is he defiant, aware of his loss and yet still spiteful.  Theoden going allows him to witness first hand."
"But why does Gandalf say fitting, and not something more positive, such as just or right?"
"Because the confrontation of the perpetrator by the aggrieved does not necessarily lead to justice."
"But the confrontation of the perpetrator by the aggrieved IS justice, no matter what happens next.  The aggrieved has the initiative, to say what they wish."
"Whatever they wish?"
"The means and the ends must both be justified*, so yes one could say something that makes them the perpetrator of a new grievance.  But that is an error they must be free to make.  One that we know Theoden will not make."
"Wait, so if the confrontation is justice, why does Gandalf merely say fitting?"
"Oh, I guess we completely flubbed the question.  Gandalf is, I think, concerned with the destruction of Sauron.  Saruman is a distraction.  Whether the interaction is just or not, Sauron remains.  It's not really his priority."
"So Gandalf doesn't care about getting justice on the way?"
"Our tradition teaches Gandalf is not a model leader.  Gandalf's motivation here, then, may be to shame Saruman, or to see how he reacts when Theoden, of all people, witness his defeat.  Maybe he hopes, in his rage, he will do something he can use.  But whether out of spite or for real gain, we cannot say."
"And Gandalf is right, though it is Wormtongue who acts in rage - and likely not as a result of Theoden's presence."
"So Gandalf is not right."
"Aah, right.  Well, what can we learn despite this?"

"When harm is done, while we may confront the perpetrator, we should bring the aggrieved along, if they wish it."
"However, as Gandalf correctly states, we should not let them delay us long.  An apology to the ether is better than none at all.  An apology to the aggrieved is good, but an apology soon after the event is better."
"Why is that?"
"Time is unstoppable and will drown everything.  As time chugs along a distance grows, lessening the hurt, the memory of it, and the urgency of repair (because the repair, if delayed, may come from other sources).  However, within the aggrieved, that distance can be prevented, or perhaps returned to.  One can move on from a past wrong, but then when confronted with the perpetrator, recall those bad feelings."
"A quick apology also allows for less strategy.  An apology after a weekend of thought may have more meaning, but it may also have a strategic element.  If I apologize, then X.  But an apology of the moment has less of that.  True, it may have less sincerity behind it, but if someone apologizes for a wrong and is lying, well now they have two wrongs to atone for.  As we said before, it is an error they are free to make."
"An immediate apology, not meant, is obviously better than a later apology which is meant.  What about a later apology or no apology."
"Later."
"But if the confrontation happens and there is no apology, then-"
"Great!  How wonderful a way to keep one's integrity.  I was not sorry when I did not apologize.  With time, I became sorry and apologized.  You can trust me to be honest, even if we disagree on what I ought to do."
"Saurman does not apologize."
"Saruman never apologizes, nor does Wormtongue.  They do keep their integrity, but without goodness integrity isn't worth much.  Honesty is the best policy, but does not necessarily make good policy.  It's good to know who is against you, but that doesn't mean it is good to have opponents.  If we allow others the grace to stand firm, even by letting them say what we disagree with, we can take their agreements, if they ever come, with more authority.  They have not been cowed.  And if we suspect it is a strategically minded agreement or apology, how wonderful their strategy requires our goodwill.  They may seek to trick us, but we can show them our goodwill is worth more in the long run rather than as a quick oil for the wheels of evil."



This had been a patreon-supported project, but that proved too annoying to maintain.  If you would like to financially support this project, drop $1.11 (or any amount, I suppose) into my Venmo!

ChatGPT contributed about 10% to this post's final version.

*I have repeated this a lot, but surprisingly cannot find the first post in which I argued it.  I'll keep looking, but it's an interesting issue to have run into...