Game of Thrones and Philosophy Read online

  NOTES

  1. George R. R. Martin, A Game of Thrones (New York: Bantam Dell, 2005), p. 634.

  2. Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince, trans. W. K. Marriott (New York: Everyman’s Library, 1992).

  3. Martin, A Game of Thrones, p. 146.

  4. For more on this idea, see Greg Littmann, “Maester Hobbes Goes to King’s Landing,” in this volume.

  5. Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan; Project Gutenberg e-book, p. 88, released May 1, 2002 (ePub edition), retrieved from www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3207 (I have preserved the antiquated spelling from the original).

  6. Hobbes, Leviathan, p. 89.

  7. Ibid., p.114.

  8. Ibid., pp. 93, 99.

  9. Martin, A Game of Thrones, p. 488.

  10. Ibid., p. 600.

  11. Machiavelli, The Prince, chap. 17.

  12. Niccolò Machiavelli, The Discourses, trans. Leslie J. Walker (Penguin Classics, 1983).

  13. Martin, A Game of Thrones, p. 126.

  14. Ibid., p. 352.

  15. Machiavelli, The Prince, p. 15.

  16. Ibid., p. 70.

  17. Machiavelli, The Discourses, p. 206.

  18. Her contempt is not exactly undeserved either; Robert’s continued infatuation with Ned’s deceased sister is what Cersei points to as the turning point in their relationship.

  19. Machiavelli, The Discourses, book 3, chap. 4.

  20. Martin, A Game of Thrones, pp. 513–514.

  21. Ibid., p. 514.

  22. Ibid., p. 634.

  23. Machiavelli, The Discourses, book 3, chap. 41.

  24. Martin, A Game of Thrones, p. 512.

  25. Machiavelli, The Discourses, book 3, chap. 27.

  26. Martin, A Game of Thrones, p. 233.

  27. Special thanks to Laura Hahn and Adam Lall for helping out with some of the plot details.

  Chapter 7

  LORD EDDARD STARK, QUEEN CERSEI LANNISTER: MORAL JUDGMENTS FROM DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVES

  Albert J. J. Anglberger and Alexander Hieke

  “Have you no shred of honor?”1 That is how Eddard Stark replies to Littlefinger’s suggestion that the Lord of Winterfell should support Prince Joffrey’s claim to the throne. Eddard knows Joffrey is not King Robert Baratheon’s rightful heir, and hence honor dictates that he not heed Littlefinger’s recommendations. Unlike Lord Stark, who possesses firmly established virtues, Cersei Lannister, the king’s wife, cares little about virtues. She cares only about what benefits her children and herself. Just consider her reaction when Arya’s wolf, Nymeria, bit the queen’s son, Joffrey: “‘The girl is as wild as that filthy animal of hers,’ Cersei said. ‘Robert, I want her punished.’ . . . The queen was furious. ‘Joff will carry those scars for the rest of his life.’”2 It does not matter to the queen whether Arya tells the truth about what happened when her direwolf attacked Prince Joffrey—harm has been done to one of Cersei’s offspring, and someone has to be held responsible. Someone, anyone, has to be punished. When Eddard’s captain of the household guard reports that Nymeria can’t be found, Cersei demands that Sansa’s direwolf, Lady, be killed instead.

  There is a striking difference between the morals guiding Eddard’s actions and the motivations underlying Cersei’s actions. Whereas Eddard is virtuous, Cersei is egoistic. It’s not surprising, then, that readers consider Eddard to be the “good guy” and Cersei to be his “evil antagonist.”

  “You Never Could Lie for Love nor Honor, Ned Stark”3

  Robert Baratheon knows his old friend and comrade well. Eddard Stark is an honest man; he even tells the truth without being asked to do so. Eddard reveals to Cersei that he has discovered the truth about Joffrey’s lineage—even though the queen is one of Lord Stark’s fiercest opponents and the information provides her with a significant strategic advantage. The virtue of charity urges Eddard to tell Cersei what he knows so that she and her children can get out of harm’s way. When Varys asks: “What strange fit of madness led you to tell the queen that you had learned the truth of Joffrey’s birth?” Eddard replies: “The madness of mercy.”4 Obviously, honesty and charity are among the virtues Lord Stark possesses, and hence he acts mercifully.

  According to virtue ethics, a truly virtuous person is a truly good person.5 The kind of character trait that counts as a virtue is not easily determined, but virtues are often thought of as dispositions. As a disposition, a virtue not only influences its possessor’s actions but also his “emotions . . . choices, values, desires, perceptions, attitudes, interests, expectations and sensibilities.”6 An honest person, for example, not only performs honest actions, but also considers nothing but honest actions as possible options. Being virtuous is usually not easy. Virtues—like many other character traits—are acquired through training, and there may be setbacks in training.

  Virtue ethics is primarily concerned with an agent’s good character rather than with the goodness of his actions. Nonetheless, by applying the principle “Good actions are those a virtuous person would do,” virtue ethics may also offer an answer as to what ought to be done.7 For example, Eddard, possessing the virtues of honesty and charity, performs morally good actions both when he reveals to Cersei that he knows about Joffrey’s lineage, and when he subsequently warns her about what might happen if the truth becomes public. In addition, Eddard also is courageous, just, and honorable, which makes him a pretty virtuous guy.

  The Madness of Mercy—The Price of Honesty

  Being virtuous and acting accordingly may come at a price. Eddard’s frankness results in his imprisonment. His honesty makes him blind to other people’s deceit. Thus it is Lord Stark himself who is wrongly accused of treason. Not only is he arrested, but as we know, an even worse fate awaits him.

  Virtues can conflict with one another. For example, honesty can conflict with love. When Varys visits Eddard in the dungeon, he tries to persuade him to admit his alleged treason: “Give me your word that you’ll tell the queen what she wants to hear when she comes calling.” Eddard replies: “If I did, my word would be as hollow as an empty suit of armor. My life is not so precious to me as that.” Varys reminds him: “And your daughter’s life, my lord? How precious is that? . . . The next visitor . . . could bring you Sansa’s head. The choice, my dear lord Hand, is entirely yours.”8 This situation involves a conflict: on the one hand, Eddard is bound by honesty and cannot bend the knee to Joffrey and accept him as king; on the other hand, he loves his daughters dearly and must not forsake them.

  As Aristotle said, we have to rely on phronesis (practical wisdom) in situations like these. Phronesis “enables an agent to recognize some features of a situation as more important than others.”9 That is exactly what Eddard does: he regards the well-being of his daughters as more important, and so here, love triumphs over honesty. He eventually bends the knee to Joffrey and confesses his “treason” so his daughters can be safe. Robert seems to be wrong: Eddard can lie after all—he can lie for love.

  Cersei loves her children, too. So does that make her virtuous as well? No. According to virtue ethics, if a character trait is lived out too extremely, it is no longer a virtue. A person can, in a sense, be too honest, too brave, and even too caring. If someone is too honest, she may likely hurt someone’s feelings; if a person is too brave, he will be foolhardy; if someone is too caring, she might be overprotective and overlook the well-being of third parties. The ultimate goal of a virtuous life is a state called eudaimonia, which means something like “flourishing,” “happiness,” or “well-being.” Eudaimonia cannot be achieved accidentally, but only through living a virtuous life. Being virtuous means administering the right dose of virtue in every situation, thus achieving what Aristotle termed the golden mean.

  Cersei’s love for herself and her children is unbalanced. Thus she forgets about other virtues, like honesty, altogether. Eddard, on the other hand, balances virtues such as honesty and sensitivity. For example, when Robert reprimands his squires for not being able to dress Robert in his armor, Eddard tells the king: “
The boys are not at fault. . . . You’re too fat for your armor, Robert.”10 This comment leads to Eddard and Robert sharing a good laugh and the king no longer being angry at his squires. Moreover, it shows how Eddard is capable of hitting the mark when it comes to applying different (competing) virtues.

  Eddard also tries to find the golden mean when confessing his alleged treason, which eventually leads to his execution. The ultimate result seems to be a good reason for calling his decision wrong. But, quite to the contrary, it shows even more how virtuous Eddard Stark is. He does not even consider that someone could be as ruthless and cruel as Joffrey in having him beheaded.

  “When You Play the Game of Thrones, You Win or You Die”: The Rewards of Egoism11

  Cersei didn’t want Eddard to be executed. No, she did not virtuously feel mercy. Rather, she understood the grave consequences that killing Lord Stark could have. Cersei’s decisions are always based on the well-being of her children and herself. She knows that Lord Stark’s death will result in the Starks being the Lannisters’ fiercest enemy. Moreover, while he is alive and prisoner, Stark can be used to bargain for peace. Cersei seems to base her choices on the likely outcomes of her actions, which makes her a consequentialist.12 There are different versions of consequentialism, but the most common is utilitarianism, which holds that all affected subjects should be taken into account, and the moral status of an action is thereby determined by its positive and negative effects on all of them. Actions are assessed by the amount of happiness or harm caused to all those involved. Cersei clearly is no utilitarian. She certainly does not take into account all subjects involved. It may well be that for her, only four subjects are ultimately relevant: herself, and her children Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella. (Though Cersei needs Jaime for comfort and protection, we think that in the end she considers him to be just another means to her ends.) She is therefore a “minimally extended” egoistic consequentialist, and a very successful one at that. Cersei is among those who prevail in the first novel. Joffrey is king, her children are safe, her opponent Lord Stark is dead, and the fatal secret of her brother’s having fathered her offspring remains undisclosed. The ruthlessness of her egoistic line of action seems to be paying off, at least so far.

  Cersei’s success does not mean that this kind of egoism is morally acceptable, however. If our goal is a functional society where people can live together peacefully, then a universal application of egoistic consequentialism should be avoided. Imagine a Westeros where all Seven Kingdoms are ruled by people like Cersei!

  It’s not just the egoistic variant of consequentialism that leads to problems; utilitarianism has to cope with severe difficulties as well. Since, according to utilitarianism, actions are evaluated only according to the amount of overall good they produce for society, the rights of individuals can easily be neglected. If, for example, the lords of the cities of Slaver’s Bay keep a small number of slaves under relatively good conditions, then the overall good of their society may be increased—even though this would infringe upon fundamental rights of the individual slaves. From an enlightened and intuitive point of view, situations like these have to be avoided.

  Virtue ethics might seem like a viable solution, but it runs into some problems of its own. Because it is primarily concerned with an agent’s character, virtue ethics does not provide specific rules of conduct in many cases. Consequentialism focuses on acts (rather than agents) and therefore usually offers such rules. Since the central question of moral philosophy traditionally is “What ought to be done?” this is a pretty serious defect of virtue ethics. Moreover, it is not clear which character traits are to be considered virtues. Although Aristotle and others would disagree, some philosophers would argue that virtues are culture-dependent.13 At any rate, there is certainly disagreement among cultures as to what counts as a virtue. Charity, for example, is not considered to be a virtue in Dothraki society, whereas it is clearly considered a virtue in Winterfell.

  “And Pray That He Is the Man I Think He Is”14

  George R. R. Martin’s narrative mode in the novels is one reason why we tend to judge Eddard more favorably than we do Cersei. He chose a special version of the third-person perspective for his A Song of Ice and Fire series. In each chapter, a different point-of-view character takes the lead. Martin describes the events from a third-person point of view, but he applies the following constraints: (1) he restricts the description of all events to what the point-of-view character (POV character) can perceive, including the character’s own actions and behavior; (2) in many cases he describes the mental states of the POV character in the current situation from a third-person point of view; (3) and sometimes he even lets us know parts of the “inner world” of the POV character by quoting his or her thoughts in the first-person point of view (indicated by italics in the books).

  Eddard Stark is one of these POV characters, thus (1), (2), and (3) apply to him. Recall the scene where Eddard sits at the king’s deathbed and lays down Robert’s last will:

  “Robert . . . Joffrey is not your son [(3)],” he wanted to say, but the words would not come [(2)]. The agony was written too plainly across Robert’s face [(1)]; he could not hurt him more [(2)]. So Ned bent his head and wrote, but where the king had said “my son Joffrey,” he scrawled “my heir” instead [(1)]. The deceit made him feel soiled [(2)]. The lies we tell for love, he thought. May the gods forgive me [(3)].15

  These particular features of Martin’s narrative mode grant us special access to the POV characters: we know their thoughts, feelings, intentions, and motives; we know their beliefs and how they reason. (Of course, introspection does not guarantee certainty: people sometimes misjudge themselves.) Since we know Eddard Stark as a POV character, it is comparatively easy to say what kind of a man he is. In particular, we know the moral principles he accepts and obeys, what his character traits are, and what his particular motives in certain situations are. Consider the previous quotation, which also shows Eddard Stark’s virtuous character: he does not have the heart to tell his king and friend the painful truth about Joffrey, but he has qualms about deceiving Robert.

  If we restrict our observations to the first novel, A Game of Thrones, Cersei is presented in a way quite different from Eddard: we know her only through other POV characters’ chapters. Sometimes she is characterized in a more or less neutral or intersubjective way, as perceived by the POV character, or described by the POV character’s thoughts, especially by the results of their reasoning. She is also sometimes presented through reports by other characters. This may pose various problems for well-founded judgments. Consider the following quotes:

  “The Lannister woman is our queen, and her pride is said to grow with every passing year.”16 (Catelyn to Eddard)

  “My sweet sister Cersei lusts for power with every waking breath.”17 (Tyrion to Catelyn)

  “She forbade him to fight, in front of his brother, his knights, and half the court. Tell me truly, do you know any surer way to force King Robert into the melee?”18 (Varys to Eddard, insinuating that Cersei might have already planned the king’s death on an earlier occasion.)

  “Cersei had the babes killed, and sold the mother to a passing slaver. Too much an affront to Lannister pride, that close to home.”19 (Littlefinger to Eddard)

  In these statements, two character traits are attributed to Cersei by Catelyn and Tyrion: pride and lust for power, respectively. Moreover, she is said to have plotted against her husband and arranged for the death of infants. Of course, we know as readers that it is risky to trust Varys and Littlefinger in their statements about Cersei, because they have strong interests of their own and thus want Eddard to believe certain “facts.” Like Eddard, we readers get a picture of Cersei shaped by various reports. We judge Cersei not only on the basis of her words and actions but also, and sometimes even primarily or exclusively, on the basis of accounts by third parties. For example, we learn from a third-party report that Cersei might have commissioned Jon Arryn’s death. In reading A Storm o
f Swords, however, we discover that this is not true.20 So, obviously some important reports about her motives and actions are unreliable, which makes a well-justified moral judgment very difficult.

  “How Are You Any Different from Robert, or Me, or Jaime?”21

  Indeed, the most reliable ways of confirming our moral judgments about other people involve observing their actions directly, and being informed by trustworthy third-party agents. This may be another problem for the applicability of virtue ethics, as we may not be able to attribute virtues to people by simply observing the actions they perform. Not even a sequence of morally good actions enables us to infer that the agent possesses a certain virtue. For example, if a merchant acts honestly all the time just because this is the most profitable strategy, he still would not have the virtue of honesty. Virtuous people do good actions, but sometimes nonvirtuous people do as well. However, if someone performs morally bad actions most of the time, that would provide a good reason to assume that she is not a virtuous person.

  If it is true that Cersei tends to get rid of people “inconvenient” to her plans by having them killed, then she is obviously not a virtuous person. But we always have to take a closer look at the information on which we base our moral judgments. If the informants are not that trustworthy, or if the chain of communication is very long, then the reliability of information may suffer, and, therefore, our judgments might not be well confirmed. Both factors may influence our moral judgments of Cersei. For reasons already mentioned, many informants may either tell outright lies or they may present only part of the truth. Further, the chain of communication may be very long, involving mere speculations from people with “strong interests.” Imagine, for example, one of Varys’s “little birds” conveying some vital information to his master. Neither is aware that one of Littlefinger’s eavesdroppers is spying on them and in turn is reporting all this to Lord Baelish—who eventually reveals a “digested” version of the message to Lord Stark. Obviously, the message Stark receives may not be reliable.