Game of Thrones and Philosophy Read online

Page 5


  18. Of course, despite making different choices, Eddard and Sir Thomas both end up getting their heads chopped off.

  19. Martin, A Game of Thrones, p. 504.

  20. Mark Twain, “My First Lie, and How I Got Out of It,” in The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996), p. 168.

  21. Thomas Carson, Lying and Deception (Oxford: Oxford Univ. Press, 2010), pp. 53–54.

  22. Ibid., p. 56.

  23. Kant would never lie to his king because he thought that lying is always wrong. But interestingly, he did try to deceive his king on at least one occasion. See James Mahon’s “Kant on Lies, Candour and Reticence,” Kantian Review 7 (2003), 102–133.

  24. Roderick Chisholm and Thomas Feehan, “The Intent to Deceive,” Journal of Philosophy 74 (1977), pp. 143–159.

  25. Martin, A Game of Thrones, p. 651.

  26. Ibid., p. 710.

  27. Ibid., p. 757.

  28. Jennifer Saul, Lying, Misleading, and What Is Said (Oxford: Oxford University Press, forthcoming).

  29. See Alan Strudler’s “The Distinctive Wrong in Lying,” in Ethical Theory and Moral Practice 13 (2010), pp. 171–179.

  30. Martin, A Game of Thrones, p. 506.

  31. Ibid., p. 506.

  32. Hugo Grotius, On the Law of War and Peace (Whitefish, MT: Kessinger, 2010), p. 232.

  33. Martin, Game of Thrones, p. 316.

  34. Ibid., p. 802.

  35. Ibid., p. 504.

  36. It might also be better to lie to a king if one thinks that it will keep him from doing something very bad. Eddard seems to think that Robert might just kill the queen and her children if he found out the truth. So it might be better to deceive him even if he were not about to die.

  37. Martin, A Game of Thrones, p. 527.

  38. Ibid., p. 322.

  39. Ibid., p. 421.

  40. Monty Python and the Holy Grail (Python Pictures, 1975). For more on the doctrine of the divine right of kings in that medieval fantasy, see Patrick Croskery’s “Monty Python and the Search for the Meaning of Life,” in Monty Python and Philosophy, eds. Gary L. Hardcastle and George A. Reisch (Chicago: Open Court, 2006), pp. 166–167.

  41. I would like to thank Andrew Cohen, Tony Doyle, Henry Jacoby, Laura Lenhart, Kay Mathiesen, Jennifer Saul, and Dan Zelinski for helpful suggestions on this chapter.

  Chapter 3

  PLAYING THE GAME OF THRONES: SOME LESSONS FROM MACHIAVELLI

  Marcus Schulzke

  A Song of Ice and Fire is full of complex characters attempting to win the Iron Throne or at least to survive. Each employs his or her own strategy for reaching a particular goal, but over the course of the story it becomes clear that some of these strategies are far more successful than others. Some characters manage to escape even the most desperate circumstances, while others are outmaneuvered and killed. The philosophy of Niccolò Machiavelli (1469–1527) can help us understand why some characters succeed and others fail. Machiavelli was quite familiar with the struggle for power, and the word “Machiavellian” is still used to describe those who are adept at using force and cunning.

  As Machiavelli explains, there are two different kinds of kingdoms, hereditary and new, which require two different kinds of rulers.1 Hereditary rulers can maintain power by continuing the policies of their predecessors; they enjoy a secure position because they are part of an established dynasty that has built a secure power base. New rulers face a much greater challenge. By seizing control of a state from someone else, they not only make enemies, but in the process also show others how to capture the throne. Becoming a new ruler requires a great deal of skill and luck, and because only the former can be learned, it is important to emulate the skill of great rulers.

  Machiavelli’s most famous book, The Prince, is full of advice for those aspiring to establish themselves as new rulers. To illustrate timeless lessons about how to become a new ruler and how to protect one’s self against challengers, Machiavelli tells stories of those who succeeded or failed in their quest for power. With its focus on the struggle to establish new kingdoms, The Prince is a perfect lens through which to view the events of A Song of Ice and Fire. As we’ll see, the War of the Five Kings follows the logic of the Machiavellian struggle for power and illustrates many of Machiavelli’s most important lessons.

  Aerys Targaryen, the Mad King who ruled Westeros before Robert Baratheon, started from a position of strength, as he was part of a long line of Targaryen kings. He had all the advantages associated with a hereditary king, yet he squandered these by acting cruelly and irrationally. Once he was deposed, Westeros lost its ruling dynasty and the Iron Throne became an unstable seat of power controlled by new rulers who faced many of the difficulties Machiavelli describes. All surviving members of the Targaryen family, and all those who had supported the Targaryens, became Robert’s enemies. Those who helped Robert reach the throne were eager to call in favors in return for their support and to work to gain power in the new court. With the Mad King’s downfall, the contest to take firm control of the throne and to establish the next dynasty began.

  Virtù and Fortuna

  Machiavelli argues that two forces determine the battle for power: virtù and fortuna. Virtù is the skill one needs to take power and keep it, but what this skill actually consists of continually changes based on the circumstances. When going into battle against a rival, acting with virtù may be a matter of charging courageously forward to meet the threat, whereas in other circumstances, such as plotting an assassination, virtù may require caution and patience. Robb’s skill in battle and Littlefinger’s ability to manipulate others are very different ways of winning power, but each shows virtù.

  Rather than giving a clear definition or a list of characteristics, Machiavelli illustrates the concept by telling a series of stories about those who had virtù and those who lacked it. The best way to learn it is by emulating great figures of the past, but one cannot follow their examples too rigidly, as this would make one predictable.2 Instead of copying those with virtù, Machiavelli advises his readers to discover what general lessons can be learned from them and then to apply these lessons in novel ways to discover a unique path to the throne.

  Despite his vagueness about the meaning of virtù, Machiavelli is very clear on one point: Virtù is not the same as virtue. Virtue is usually associated with moral qualities. A virtuous person is one who is honest, courageous, and loyal. A person with virtù can display each of these qualities, but only when they are useful. Those with virtù often appear to be virtuous only because this appearance makes it easier for them to take and hold power. Being morally virtuous can actually be a hindrance, as it may prevent one from doing what is necessary to gain an advantage over opponents.

  A concern with morality makes strong characters like Ned Stark vulnerable, while those who know when to act immorally prevail. This point is made clear when Lysa accuses Bronn of not fighting with honor after he wins Tyrion’s trial by combat. Bronn points toward the hole his opponent fell into and tells her, “No . . . he did” (“A Golden Crown”). An aspiring king must therefore know when to be virtuous and when to be cruel. He must also know how to make his actions appear to be good or be able to blame others for misdeeds.3 Machiavelli does not advise rulers to behave immorally, however. Rather, he advises them to avoid thinking in terms of morality at all. He says that actions are only good or bad to the extent that they increase or decrease one’s power. Terrorizing others is often counterproductive because rulers who make themselves hated often provoke rebellions.

  Fortuna can best be translated as luck. It encompasses whatever events are outside a person’s control, whether they are good or bad. Fortuna includes everything from how other people act to natural disasters. When it is favorable, fortuna can help a person out of even the most desperate circumstances, as when Tyrion had the good fortune of finding Bronn to defend him in a trial by combat. Fortuna, though, is an unreliable ally that can defect in an instant. For this reason, Machi
avelli argues that one should leave nothing to chance; those with virtù usually succeed because they make their own luck. As he puts it, “Fortune is a woman, and if you wish to master her, you must strike and beat her, and you will see that she allows herself to be more easily vanquished by the rash and the violent than by those who proceed more slowly and coldly.”4 Fortuna can be capricious, and thus it is essential to take precautions against it. In many of Machiavelli’s historical examples, fortuna is the force that brings even the greatest generals and rulers to ruin.

  The best one can hope for is to avoid fortuna’s harmful consequences by planning for every contingency and adapting quickly to new events. Those who seek power must engage in a constant struggle to control fortuna by force and deception. They must have the virtù to control their circumstances, so that their circumstances cannot control them. Many of Machiavelli’s examples of virtù involve men who were successful partly because they were beneficiaries of good fortuna. As he points out, however, luck is rarely enough in itself. Many people have good luck, but greatness requires using it to one’s advantage. As Machiavelli says, “Opportunities, therefore, made these men fortunate, and it was their lofty virtue [virtù] that enabled them to recognize the opportunities by which their countries were made illustrious and most happy.”5

  The Downfall of Kings

  The struggle for the Iron Throne is, as Machiavelli would have predicted, shaped by the same forces of virtù and fortuna that shaped the struggle for power in Renaissance Italy. In the game of thrones, players constantly struggle against fortuna by extending the range of their power and eliminating rivals. Ironically, some of the most powerful figures in the story are those who are least able to win the struggle against fortuna. Viserys Targaryen, Robert Baratheon, Joffrey Baratheon, Ned Stark, and Robb Stark illustrate some of the most basic mistakes one can make when attempting to take or keep power.

  Viserys Targaryen is prideful, arrogant, and violent. He perfectly fits Machiavelli’s description of a deposed leader, as he thinks of nothing but claiming what he considers his place.6 Viserys is willing to do anything, even sacrifice his own sister, in order to take the Iron Throne. However, he repeatedly makes serious mistakes that make him dependent on others. His decision to marry his sister to Khal Drogo is perhaps his greatest mistake, because it forces him to rely on both Drogo and his sister. His arrogance, of course, compounds this mistake.

  Machiavelli argues that someone aspiring to power must either find support from average people or from the nobles.7 The nobles may initially seem to be more attractive, as they have access to positions of power, the wealth needed to raise an army, and experience in politics. Machiavelli advises against aligning with the nobles, however, as they have one critical failing: they offer their support to a claimant to the throne only when it serves their purposes. Many lords, including Walder Frey and Roose Bolton, change their allegiances to gain an advantage. Had Viserys overcome his pride long enough to lead Khal Drogo’s army into Westeros to reclaim the throne, he might have found that Drogo or his sister would expect favors in return. He would have been left completely dependent on them and would have been forced to give in to all of their demands. Yet, he never even had the opportunity to learn this lesson. Drogo and his sister realized the power they had over the arrogant man, and they lost their patience with him long before Viserys had an opportunity to invade Westeros.

  The masses are much easier to please than the nobles, Machiavelli argues, because their only wish is not to be oppressed.8 Anyone who can promise them security and freedom will win their lasting support. Had Viserys sought support from average people, he might have found them more willing to indulge his arrogant habits.

  King Robert Baratheon is a stark contrast to Viserys, but he too suffers from serious failings that make him a poor leader. Robert’s rise to power indicates that he was once a man of great virtù. He managed to seize control of Westeros, reorganize its government, and place loyal supporters in key positions. Even when he becomes lazy and incapable of managing the state’s finances, he has widespread support and is too powerful for any challengers to attack directly. Nevertheless, Robert is similar to Viserys in one important respect. He often allows his emotions to dictate his actions. For example, Robert is quick to turn on Ned in a moment of anger and dismiss him as Hand of the King when Ned insists that Daenerys not be assassinated—only to reverse his decision when the anger has passed.9 These strong emotions render Robert capricious and incapable of removing himself from the conflicts in which he is embroiled. Without this ability, fortuna is able to sway his emotions and dictate his actions. Ultimately, Robert’s lack of control over his emotions leads him to be a poor judge of his advisers and friends. His anger drives away honorable men like Ned Stark, and his pride leads him to become dependent on duplicitous advisers who echo his opinions.

  Robert’s heir, Joffrey, takes the throne when he is too young and immature to understand the consequences of his actions. Excited by his new power and eager to exert his will, at first his harsh actions are understandable. He must act violently to eliminate his enemies in King’s Landing and to mobilize an army to oppose rival kings. Joffrey acts mercilessly against friends and enemies alike, however, and commits the fatal mistake of making himself hated. Machiavelli admits that cruelty is often necessary, but says it must be used cautiously so that it does not create enemies. Advising that unpopular measures should be acted upon quickly, Machiavelli says, “Cruelties should be committed all at once, as in that way each separate one is less felt, and gives less offence; benefits, on the other hand, should be conferred one at a time, for in that way they will be more appreciated.”10 Unfortunately, Joffrey is cruel not only when it is necessary but also whenever he feels like controlling someone.

  In one of The Prince’s most famous passages, Machiavelli discusses whether it is better to be loved or feared. Not surprisingly, it is most desirable to be both loved and feared. But if one must choose one or the other, fear is much better than love because it is a more reliable emotion.

  Men have less hesitation about offending one who makes himself loved than one who makes himself feared, for love is held together by a chain of obligation which, because men are sadly wicked, is broken at every opportunity to serve their self-interest, but fear is maintained by a dread of punishment which never abandons you.11

  Machiavelli, however, cautions those who would make themselves feared through terror, saying that the worst thing one can do is to be hated, as hatred can drive people to action even when they are afraid. Joffrey strikes fear into his friends and enemies, but by continually acting cruelly, he makes himself hated by members of the court, the residents of King’s Landing, and even his own brother. Luck saves him from being murdered by angry crowds when he and his companions ride through the streets of King’s Landing in A Clash of Kings, but the fact that luck alone preserves his life is evidence that Joffrey is a poor model of how a king should behave.12

  Morality and Dependency

  Not all of the cautionary tales in A Song of Ice and Fire involve cruel or capricious kings. Some of the most admirable characters also display a lack of virtù. Although he never became a challenger to the Iron Throne, Ned Stark rose to a position of great power. A much different kind of leader than Viserys, Robert, or Joffrey, Ned always made decisions with justice and fairness in mind. A great warrior, and one of the story’s most honorable characters, Ned was also a skilled administrator, a good friend, and a virtuous person. Despite all of these strengths, however, he is a prime example of how disastrous morality can be to those who are involved in politics.

  Ned is often the beneficiary of good fortune, which allows him to advance far without compromising his values. Fortune gave him the position of King’s Hand and returned him to that office after he resigned from it. Ned rarely takes full advantage of what luck has given him, however. Instead, he acts with restraint and a clear, uncompromising sense of right and wrong. Machiavelli insists, though, that a critical pa
rt of virtù is knowing when not to be good:

  For the manner in which men live is so different from the way in which they ought to live, that he who leaves the common course for that which he ought to follow will find that it leads him to ruin rather than safety. For a man who, in all respects, will carry out only his professions of good, will be apt to be ruined amongst so many who are evil. A prince therefore who desires to maintain himself must learn to be not always good, but to be so or not as necessity may require.13

  Ned lacks the skill of knowing when not to be good. His honesty and loyalty make him a good friend to Robert and a good role model for his children, but such values are costly when one tries to compete against those who are not restrained by morals. Ned warns Cersei that he will tell Robert the truth about the illegitimate heir to the throne, and reveals his plans to Littlefinger, thus allowing them to respond well in advance. He trusts too easily, rigidly keeps his word, and refuses to hide his thoughts or deeds. Ned’s moral virtue ultimately leads to his death when he makes the fatal mistake of trusting Littlefinger, a man whose cunning far exceeds his own. The trust is particularly ill advised since Littlefinger even warned Ned that he could not trust anyone and that his decision to support Stannis Baratheon as Robert’s heir would lead to violence.

  Ned’s son, Robb, displays similar values, but is much better at adapting to his circumstances. Of all the kings in A Song of Ice and Fire, Robb Stark is perhaps the one who comes closest to meeting Machiavelli’s conception of virtù. He is an excellent general, adept at winning the support of unaligned nobles and capable of making long-term plans that extend his control over fortuna. However, Robb makes one of the mistakes that Machiavelli says is usually fatal: he relies too much on others for military support. Although Robb has his own loyal followers, he secures his crossing at the Twins and fills his ranks with more men by earning Walder Frey’s support with the promise of his marriage to one of Walder’s daughters. Thus he becomes dependent on a crossing controlled by an untrustworthy lord and on men whose loyalty rests only on a marriage contract. Robb may have had no choice but to earn Frey’s trust when crossing at the Twins, but he neglected to end his dependency once he was in a more powerful position.