Star Wars is an interesting franchise. Though wildly popular, it is one of the most ideologically and thematically fragmented franchises out there, partly because of its origin history. The original three films were not based on a book or literature of any sort. While the prequels came from the same creative mind as the OT (George Lucas), and while the chiastic storytelling structure of these six films may be masterful (see this blog), he deconstructed much of his own lore from 30 years before, initiating the fragmentation which would escalate into the spinoffs (Clone Wars, Rebels) and the newest trilogy.

The most notable and detrimental shift is the shift in the Jedi Order, which lies at the heart of the franchise itself and the universe it inhabits. While the OT had hints of Jedi Stoicism, the prequels put Stoicism on full blast with major consequences.

In this post, I will argue that even though the emphasis on Stoicism in the prequels is in fact, incongruent with the OT, it actually manages to magnify the OT character arcs, especially that of Luke Skywalker.

So while I do think it was a deconstruction, it stands as one of the few positive examples of deconstruction in an industry currently obsessed with that artistic device. Unfortunately, however, the rest of the Star Wars franchise has been one deconstruction after another, few executed well. Without further ado, let’s dive in and see what I’m talking about.

Comparing OT and Prequel Jedi Teachings

In the OT, the Jedi Order remains much of a mystery, even by the close of Episode VI. All we get are glimpses into a mysterious order that “kept peace and justice for a thousand years.” We meet two Jedi (Obi Wan, and Yoda), and one Jedi turned evil (Darth Vader). 

The most significant quotes about the Jedi and the Force come in Episode V when Yoda is training Luke, and then one quote from Obi Wan in Episode VI:

(1) “A Jedi must have the deepest commitment, the most serious mind…” (Yoda)

(2) “Adventure, excitement, a Jedi craves not these things.” (Yoda)

(3) “Beware the dark side: anger, fear, aggression. The dark side of the Force are they. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight. If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. Consume you it will…” (Yoda)

(4) “How am I to know the good side from the bad?” (Luke)

(5)“You will know when you are calm, at peace, passive.” (Yoda)

(6)“Bury your feelings deep down, Luke. They do you credit, but they could be made to serve the Emperor.” (Obi Wan)

How Stoic are these ideas? It’s worth noting that quotes 1 and 2 are mostly talking about maturity and responsibility (sound moral formation). Quote 3 is dealing with emotional regulation. Quote 5 is one of the most Stoic-leaning, however it also sounds an awful lot like mindfulness. 

Quote 6 is the other strong Stoic quote, however its meaning is incredibly vague. In context they are talking about his feelings for his sister Leia. During the extended climax of the movie, as if Obi-Wan had prophesied it, this is exactly what Vader exploits to bring out the dark side in Luke, so Obi Wan’s warning was warranted. From the context of the OT, I would never have  interpreted (6) to be a core Jedi tenet, but rather specific advice Obi-Wan gives Luke according to his personality and situation. In New Hope, Obi Wan repeatedly tells Luke to “reach out with his feelings” and “trust his instincts,” not to bury them. 

Unfortunately, (5) and especially (6) seem to be what Lucas took into the prequels to establish a clear philosophy of the Jedi Order. 

Here we have Yoda talking to Anakin in Episode III:

(7) “Death is a natural part of life. Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force. Mourn them do not. Miss them do not. Attachments lead to jealousy. The shadow of greed, that is.” 

(8)“Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.”

Both of these quotes sound like they could come right out of Epictetus. Let’s take a brief look at the Stoics, to see what I mean. 

Ancient Thought on Emotion

While modern sensibilities often paint all emotions as “neutral,” (something which you shouldn’t pass moral judgment on, but just take notice of) Aristotelian virtue ethics taught that some were good and some were bad, depending on the situation. For instance, it is a good thing to be angry about injustice, and to rejoice at our friend’s good fortune.

“Just by virtue of being humans—‘by nature’ as the ancients put it—we are susceptible to a wide variety of feelings and tendencies to react. Our development, and especially our moral development, consists in our getting (more or less) control over those feelings and training them in some ways rather than others (Annas, 53).” This still makes sense to most people, especially parents who are raising children. We recognize that some reactions may be instinctual, but that doesn’t mean they are desirable or morally praiseworthy.

So far, so good. What of the Stoics?

Scholar Julia Annas admits that the Stoics appear to endorse a philosophy that the virtuous agent is entirely unfeeling. The truth is a little more complex. “The virtuous agent will have some emotional states, which the Stoics call eupatheiai…(Annas, 62)” namely joy, caution, and wishing. Why these ones and not anger, fear, and grief? The key lies in the stoical claim that emotions are beliefs:

“[A]ll emotions involve placing value on, and caring about, objects other than virtue. According to the Stoics, virtue has a value and motivational force, quite different from the value and motivational force of other things. And beliefs that attach one to objects other than virtue are all systematically mistaken. Being afraid of something that is not morally evil, or caring about something that is not morally good, presupposes that these things are worth caring about in their own right, whereas for the Stoics this is a misconception, attaching to these things a value which they do not have (Annas, 63).” 

Virtue and a Life Well-Lived

Why is virtue so important? For ancient thinkers, virtue is of the utmost value largely because it holds the secret to living a good life—i.e. a life that acknowledges the grain of reality and a person’s role in it, a life of (if not happiness) meaning and satisfaction. As we will see, virtue (both our character and our attitudes) is one of the few things in our control. Epictetus puts it this way:

“Some things are up to us and some are not up to us. Our opinions are up to us, and our impulses, desires, aversions—in short, whatever is our own doing. Our bodies are not up to us, nor are our possessions, our reputations, or our public offices…So remember, if you think that things naturally enslaved are free or that things not your own are your own, you will be thwarted, miserable, and upset…But if you think that only what is yours is yours, and that what is not your own is, just as it is, not your own, then no one will ever coerce you, no one will hinder you, you will blame no one, you will not accuse anyone, you will not do a single thing unwillingly, you will have no enemies, and no one will harm you, because you will not be harmed at all (Epictetus, Handbook 1, emphasis added).” 

(What a quote, huh? That last bit reads like a Stoic blessing)

So, putting Annas and Epictetus together: to have improper emotions (anger, fear, grief) is to have improper beliefs about reality and the nature of a human being’s role in the world, and this can only lead to frustration and misery. We must recognize what is under our control and what is not, if we are to lead good lives. 

For both Epictetus and Seneca, this has some pretty drastic and harsh ramifications. Seneca says the virtuous man should not be angry, even if he sees his father murdered:

• “‘What then, [the objector says], ‘will the good man not be angry if he sees his father murdered…?’ ’No, he will not get angry—but he will avenge them, or protect them. In any case, why are you afraid that filial duty even without anger may not be a strong enough motive for him?…My father is being murdered—I will defend him; he has been murdered—I will avenge him. But because it is my duty, not because I feel bad about it (Seneca, De Ira I 12).”

And Epictetus says several times that one should not grieve the loss of a loved one:

• Exhibit A: “[D]eath is nothing dreadful…but instead the judgment about death that it is dreadful—that is what is dreadful. So when we are thwarted or upset or distressed, let us never blame someone else but rather ourselves, that is, our own judgments (Epictetus, Handbook 5).”

• Exhibit B: “If you kiss your child or your wife, say that you are [merely] kissing a human being; for when it dies you will not be upset (Epictetus, Handbook 3).”

• Exhibit C: “Never say about anything, ‘I have lost it,’ but instead, ‘I have given it back.’ Did your child die? It was given back. Did your wife die? She was given back (Epictetus, Handbook 11).”

Annas concludes: “The virtuous person is not affectless; she has, for example, some attitude to danger. But this attitude will be consistent with a rational view of the situation, and so will be ‘caution,’ not fear (fear already implying a wrong view of the situation) (Annas, 63).” 

Sounds a lot like Prequel Jedi Order, doesn’t it? Let’s get back to Star Wars.

The Jedi and the Problem of Attachment

One of the biggest differences between OT Jedi teaching and prequel Jedi teaching is the prequel renunciation of attachment. As we have seen, this is very stoical, a huge shift from the OT, and now I add, very problematic. Don’t get me wrong, the Stoics have a lot of great things going for them. At their best they remind us what is in our control and what isn’t. However, I think their mistake lies in assuming it’s wrong to be affected by things outside of our control. It’s definitely uncomfortable, but that doesn’t mean it is morally wrong.

Having emotions and attachments is part of being human. We don’t just act, we receive inputs, and we react to them. In fact, in order to act, we have to first receive (at the very least, stimuli from our environment).

Any psychologist today can tell you that to deny emotions and attachments completely is harmful. It’s also not warranted by the established Jedi lore in the OT.

In Empire when Yoda and Obi Wan counsel Luke not to go save Han and Leia, it isn’t because his love for them is bad, or attachments are bad, but because they know it’s a trap, and because they know if the Emperor gets a hold of Luke it could destroy the rebellion. They literally say as much to him: “you will destroy all for which they have fought and suffered.” 

However, this is the shift that George Lucas decided to make, and unfortunately, it makes the Jedi Order quite problematic in the prequels. Learning to master your emotions and not let them rule you is great. Taking children away from their mothers at age six and then telling them not to have attachments, is not so great. Anakin’s entire descent to the dark side revolves around his love for his mother (grief at losing her) and for Padme (fear of losing her). If these had been properly dealt with, would he have turned at all? Of course, this is what makes it a tragedy, and rightly so.

One of my main issues is that the Jedi Order has supposed been around for a thousand years…and apparently they have never encountered this issue before? Attachment issues have never been a problem for a Jedi before? That is just entirely unfeasible to me. I think it would have been more feasible if the Jedi recognized love and attachment as a good thing, but Anakin himself repressed it as weakness. 

Enter Luke Skywalker

Now, despite all of this, I am willing to accept Lucas’ choices in the prequels and consider them part of Star Wars canon. At the beginning of this post, I said that even though the shift toward stoicism is incongruent with the Jedi Order as established in the OT, it actually magnifies the original themes and character arcs. How so?

Luke completely redeems Anakin’s arc in a manner that is profoundly beautiful. 

Both Anakin and Luke have deep emotions and strong attachments. Both of them are cautioned against these. Anakin spins out of control, lets his fear rule him, and gives in to the Dark Side. But it is Luke’s s love for Leia and Han that keep him from going to the Dark Side. What’s more, it is his deep compassion for his father, despite all odds, that not only saves Anakin, but leads to the Emperor’s defeat. Think about how powerful that is. 

In the throne room, Luke had just as much to lose as Anakin ever had. He knows if the rebels succeed, he will likely die with Vader and the Emperor. He just found out Han and Leia are walking into a trap and are almost certainly going to die. His father gave him up to the Emperor and thus either to death or darkness. Luke has no one else in the whole world. His aunt and uncle are dead. Obi Wan is dead. 

The clearest way to save Leia and be with his father would be to submit to the Emperor, but he refuses. With Han and Leia, he’s learned his lesson from Empire Strikes Back. He loves them, but he won’t sacrifice all they fought for. His entire focus is on fighting for his father’s soul. He’s battling all sorts of emotions, but he keeps coming back to what is most important.

He snaps a little when Vader threatens to corrupt Leia. But after “confronting Vader”—as both Obi Wan and Yoda told him he must—after cutting off Vader’s hand, he pulls himself together and throws his light saber away. I love him in that moment. The Emperor has all the cards, all the control. But Luke will not submit. He’s ready to die, knowing that he tried, and knowing that he did not give in. I think his final act of defiance is also meant to be an example to his father, and in that sense, a final act of love.

 Darth Vader soon follows his son’s example and accepts death, in order to save his son, because Luke showed him how.

Luke loves just as fiercely as Anakin did, but he learns to love fearlessly. And in doing so, he changes the Jedi order forever. 

In Return of the Jedi, Luke is consistently unlike any other Jedi. Even though in the OT we’ve only met Obi Wan and Yoda, we can already tell this.

• Luke always wore his heart on his sleeve. He still does in Jedi, but so much more of it is under control. He’s learned more moderation and balance.

• Unlike Yoda and Obi Wan, he wears black. I always took this to mean he has embraced the truth that Darth Vader is his father, as well as the temptation to darkness in himself (the cave). He doesn’t run from that darkness anymore or try to hide from it. It is part of his heritage and he is ‘comfortable’ with it, even though he steadfastly rejects it.

• Directed multiple times to confront Vader (and presumably kill him), he is determined to redeem him. He lets his compassion for his father drive him.

• Luke gets angry! But it’s not the dark, selfish anger the Emperor wants. It’s a righteous anger: anger that the rebels are being slaughtered and the Emperor is taunting him, anger that Darth Vader threatens to corrupt Leia. He gets righteously angry and he doesn’t lose control.

If the Jedi Order was faulty (and we’ve seen that the prequels show it is) then Luke (*cough* not Rey *cough*) is the perfect person to redeem it and start a new era of Jedi. 

If the prequel Jedi Order was Stoical at heart, Luke displays a much more Aristotelian approach to moral formation and ethics. While all the other force users around him are talking about fate and destiny (very Stoical), Luke actually believes an agent can choose to change his established dispositions.

Plus, there’s a lot of evidence that he learns the Aristotelian virtues of feeling. I so wish we could have seen more of this Luke–the one who had come to terms with the darkness in himself and was not afraid of the darkness in others. The one who learned how to have healthy attachments and balance love and fear.

If you’ve stuck with me this long you’re a real Star Wars fan, a real philosophy nerd, or preferably both! I hope you’ve enjoyed this deep dive into the intersections between Star Wars and Stoic philosophy. 

Questions? Anything to add? Comment below!

References:

Annas, Julia. The Morality of Happiness. Oxford University Press: New York, 1993.