The following is an essay (with a few minor tweaks) I wrote in grad school that I was recently reminded of. I find it quite relevant these days, especially among libertarian circles were abstract perfection is often the enemy of the good. A common line is “the lesser evil is still evil”. I will one day have to write up a full rebuttal of this way of thinking, but for now I will just say that like Plato, this mentality leaves one unable to act in reality as it actually is. Our moral choices are not between some perfect choice and and evil choice, the perfect choice is an abstraction that does not exist. On the contrary, we must choose among the options that actually exist, and I would argue that failing to do so is itself a dereliction of one’s moral duty. In this essay I argue that Tolkien utterly rejects the Platonic idealism that is the root of this way of thinking, and that rather his work is clear and resounding call to moral action in the face of non-ideal circumstances, a call I think we should heed.
Libertarians like to huff on a lot of copium about why their ideas have not been accepted or put into practice, but I would argue that idealism is the largest reason by far.
I have thought about adding some more and submitting this to a journal, but haven’t decided.
Tolkien Contra Platonic Idealism
In his essay “The Politics of Transcendence: The Pretentious Passivity of Platonic Idealism” Claes Ryn addresses what he sees in Plato as being negative consequences that result from his political idealism. While Ryn discusses his arguments against Platonic idealism at some length, it may be a useful exercise to manifest these criticisms in the more concrete form of literature. For several reasons, the work of J.R.R. Tolkien serves as a useful foil, in part because Plato and Tolkien are often associated together to some degree. However, upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that, in contrast to the mostly surface level treatments of this influence, Tolkien is in fact reacting strongly against Plato, and in fact could be said to critiquing what could be called Platonic idealism and its logical consequences. It may well be that these substantive differences are passed over due to an unfamiliarity with Plato’s idealism and a lack of understanding of what it necessarily results in. If so, Tolkien serves as an excellent foil with which to explore and critique Platonic idealism. This contrast is made all the deeper thanks to Tolkien’s own rich understanding of imagination and the danger that can result from letting it run amuck. We will explore this contrast in three specific contexts: rings of power, mundane life, and the contemplative and active lives.
Platonic Idealism
Plato’s political writing is filled with examples of political idealism, that is the idea that lived life here on earth must measure up to some universal idea of the good that is beyond the possibility of being put into practice. According to Ryn, “Plato contends that politics should be tied to the transcendent Good, a reality that he understands as lying entirely beyond the world of concrete particulars, as having no essential, integral relation to man’s historical existence.”1 As a result of the ahistorical conception of man, Plato constructs an elaborate scheme of governance, complete with social engineering and breeding programs, to bring about the correctly ordered regime. At the core of this regime lies the philosopher rulers, those who are able to master their passions and order their being in order to live a life contemplating the perfect forms of the good. These rulers will not even be interested in ruling, preferring to live the contemplative life, and in fact, Plato even admits that in ruling they will bumble, especially at first, since they have so little experience in our drab imperfect world, compared to their vision of the world of ideal forms.
Ryn points out that as a result of Plato’s foundation of the ideal regime being based upon his imaginative vision that is disconnected from reality he leaves the political actor rather helpless when faced with conditions that do not match up to the ideal. Plato explains the way in which his plan can be carried out via social engineering, but short of that, it is unclear what should be done if the social engineering cannot be carried out. Plato himself ran into this problem during his brief sojourn into practical politics which left him disgusted. As Ryn notes, this failure of practical action should not be surprising from someone for whom “aversion to the actual world is taken… as a sign of moral nobility.”2
At the root of any idealistic system must necessarily lie an imaginative vision that lays out the world, not as it is, but as it could conceivably be. This imaginative vision is, no doubt, an area of extreme overlap between Plato and Tolkien. However, the difference in ways in which this imaginative vision is made manifest speaks to the root divergence between Plato and Tolkien. Plato’s imaginative vision is necessarily detached from lived human experience, given his emphasis on the world of the forms in which goodness and justice are embodied, rather than on the concrete, and in his view, corrupted world of lived reality. Being untethered from reality, Plato’s imaginative vision is left to roam far from what can actually be achieved by humans.
Tolkien, by virtue of being a fantasy writer engages almost exclusively in terms of expressing an imaginative vision, however, Tolkien is very clear that this imagination is not something that is completely untethered from reality. In fact, Tolkien argues that “fantasy is a natural human activity. It certainly does not destroy or even insult Reason; and it does not either blunt the appetite for, nor obscure the perception of, scientific verity.” Tolkien goes on to argue that Fantasy is only possible so long as humans are capable of discerning truth, the lack of which is not Fantasy, but simply delusion.3 Since humans do have the capacity for understanding truth, Tolkien concedes that Fantasy is capable of being carried to excess, and that “it may even delude the minds out of which it came.”4 However, Tolkien is very careful about ensuring that he does not fall into this trap, as Plato does. This is due to Tolkien’s specific use of “sub-creation.” That is Tolkien’s idea that man’s capacity to create internally consistent fantasy worlds stems from being made in God’s image, with God being the ultimate creator.5
This sub-creation serves to communicate true things about the world we live in. Historian Brad Birzer argues that for Tolkien fairy stories, or fantasy, accomplishes three things; they “illuminate the vast inheritance our ancestors have bequeathed to us,” they “give us a new sense of wonder about things we have taken for granted or which have become common place,” and finally they “provide humans with a means to escape the drabness, conformity, and mechanization of modernity.”6 In contrast to Plato’s realm of the ideal forms, Tolkien’s imaginative vision is entirely focused on communicating truths about the world we live in, and therefore how we can act in that world.
Rings of Power
One of the most often cited examples of overlap between Plato and Tolkien is their shared use of rings of power.7 In Plato’s Republic, he recounts the story of Gyges ring, in which the shepherd Gyges discovers a ring that turns the wearer invisible when it is turned to the correct position. After discovering this power, Gyges uses this ability to seduce the queen and kill and supplant the king. On the surface there is a great deal of similarity to Tolkien’s Ring of Power or One Ring. This ring grants the bearer invisibility, but additionally, through a mechanism that is never fully explained, also grants the bearer greater worldly power and an amplification of natural abilities. Yet, this is largely where the similarities stop, and this is due to the way in which Plato’s political idealism diverges from Tolkien’s reality-based fantasy.
Plato brings up the myth of Gyges ring in a discourse on the just man and whether or not a man would pursue justice even if such a pursuit would result in suffering and hardship. Much later in the dialogue, Plato concludes that “justice really is, in and of itself, what’s best for the soul, in and of itself, so that a soul should do what is just whether or not it has Gyges’ ring.”8 If the polis should be governed by the philosopher kings with well-ordered, and therefore just souls, it then follows that for Plato the ideal ruler should be able to remain just, even if he or she is given Gyges’s ring.
This idea at first seems to bear a striking resemblance to Tolkien’s Ring of Power in Lord of the Rings and his very clear message about the danger of power. However, such an interpretation overlooks the key way in which Tolkien differs from Plato. For Plato, only those who can resist the power of Gyges’ ring are fit to govern. In contrast, for Tolkien, no one, especially not the wise and powerful, is capable of resisting the temptation to use the One Ring for evil, yet, because Tolkien does not share Plato’s political idealism, he does not conclude then that no one is fit to rule and govern. On the contrary, Tolkien demonstrates that only those who recognize they are not capable of withstanding the temptations of the Ring are really fit to rule.
In The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien makes clear the subtle, yet very important point regarding the recognition of temptations through several characters. The powerful wizard Gandalf refuses the Ring when it is offered to him by Frodo Baggins, saying that “with that power I should have power too great and terrible… Do not tempt me! I dare not take it, even to keep it safe, unused. The wish to wield it would be too great for my strength.”9 A similar dynamic can be seen in the character of Galadriel, who turns down the Ring when it is offered to her, knowing that she would become corrupted. We also see the contrast between Boromir, heir to the stewardship of Gondor, who does try to seize the Ring, and his brother, Faramir, who also had the opportunity to seize the Ring, but turns it down. Eventually it is Faramir who becomes the new Stewart.
Outside of fiction, Tolkien makes his stance explicitly clear to a letter to his son in which he declares that “the most improper job of any man, even saints (who at any rate were at least unwilling to take it on), is bossing other men. Not one in a million is fit for it, and least of all those who seek the opportunity.”10
In a Platonic world, someone like Gandalf seems to be the perfect candidate the wield the Ring. He is very wise, and completely dedicated to goodness and justice, working tirelessly to defeat evil. Yet, because Tolkien rejects political idealism, he recognizes that power itself can be corrupting to good people who truly desire justice. Indeed, Gandalf explicitly says that he would begin wielding the Ring in order to do good, but would inevitably corrupt him into the very evil he seeks to destroy.11 Yet, his recognition of this weakness, in Tolkien’s portrayal, makes him better able to serve the cause of good.12 Similarly, Faramir, recognizing the peril of the Ring, declares that he should not take it, even if it was the only way he could save Gondor.13
Plato and Tolkien on Mundane Life
Another significant difference between Tolkien and Plato can be found in their immensely different valuations of mundane everyday life. Plato expresses abhorrence at hum-drum lived life, and treats it with scorn, whereas for Tolkien, the mundane aspects of life are immensely important. These differences belie a deeper more fundamental difference between the two concerning the very nature of goodness and beauty.
According to the Platonic theory of the forms, goodness and beauty can only be found in the realm of the forms, and that on earth we merely see imperfect imitations of these ideal forms. Therefore, the wise seek to contemplate these ideals and shun the dingy knock-off world in which we actually live. This scorn comes through when Plato is discussing his philosopher rulers:
As for the pettiest of nuisances they’ll be rid of, their very unseemliness makes me hesitate even to talk about them—things like being poor and having to toady the rich, all the problems and pains involved in rearing children, and making enough money to feed the household, borrowing a bit here, defaulting there, using any device to get enough together, then handing it over to wives and slaves to manage: well, my friend, just what and how people have to suffer for all this is plain enough, it’s ignoble, and it’s not worth talking about.14
Lived life is full of such problems as these, and in rejecting them as “ignoble” Plato is necessarily rejecting much of the world humans actually live in.
In stark contrast, one cannot find anything remotely resembling the idealized forms in the world of Tolkien. Rather than the good, the true, and the beautiful dwelling in some plane above existence, they are made manifest in the actual world. Indeed, much of Tolkien’s writing is addressing specific manifestations of these values. Even when Tolkien speaks of the dwelling of Eru, the One and the music of the Ainur, the Holy Ones he does not speak of an idealized world of the perfect forms, but in contrast speaks of a process of improvement in which the Ainur “came to deeper understanding, and increased in unison and harmony.”15 Indeed, Tolkien’s language in his description of the music of the Ainur is filled with language that denotes gradations, and variations with beauty. He does not speak of the perfect ideal. Similarly, Arda, the Earth, is portrayed as a place in which beauty can be made manifest, and this manifestation of goodness and beauty forms the great labors of the Valar who descend into it.
This discussion of the manifestation of the good, the true, and the beautiful is not merely metaphysical banter, but is actually of great practical importance. In Lord of the Rings there are many different heroes of varying types. However, while the great lords, warriors, and wizards are of great importance, the central characters of the story are the Hobbits, especially Frodo and Sam. The Hobbits set out on the perilous quest to destroy the Ring, not for the sake of honor and glory, but rather because they want to protect their home, the Shire, and the people who live there. Because Frodo and Sam can see the good that is manifested in the simple and ordered life of the Shire, they are able to appreciate and value it, and therefore are prepared to make great sacrifices in order to defend this goodness. It is this grounding in experiencing the good manifested in lived life that helps Frodo and Sam both largely resist the temptations of the Ring.
Contrast this perspective with someone who is detached from experiencing the good, the true, and the beautiful made manifest in everyday mundane life. Saruman is, like Gandalf, a wizard of great power and wisdom. However, unlike Gandalf, who takes great interest in the life and lore of Hobbits, Saruman holds them and their simple ways in complete disdain and contempt and holds that they must be ordered by “the wise”. In his critique of Plato, Ryn anticipates this attitude as a consequence of attempts to divorce the manifestation of transcendence in historical lived experience, saying that “transcendence understood as separate from the historical world of practice leaves the transcendent empty. It invites individuals to fill the emptiness with whatever personal desires and dreams they would like to consider divinely sanctioned.”16 Consider Saruman’s words when he is attempting to convince Gandalf to join him in his alliance with Sauron, “we must have power, power to order all things as we will, for that good that only the wise can see.”17
Of all Tolkien’s characters, one might say that Saruman is actually the closest to Plato’s philosopher ruler, believing that the good is only perceivable by the wise leading the contemplative life, high in their ivory tower (a literal tower in Saruman’s case) detached from the sordid world below that is untouched by the good. Yet, as Ryn predicts, the end result of this approach is domination. When Saruman seizes control of the Shire, he and his lackeys proceed to go about destroying many of the simple manifestations of the good because he in unable to see them due to being blinded by his own idealism. The Party Tree and many other trees are maliciously cut down, destroying the beauty manifested in nature; the inns are all closed, denying the facilitation of goodness inherent in fellowship; and snug and fitting hobbit homes and buildings are leveled and replaced with hideous architecture, replacing beauty with ugliness.18
The Imperative to Act
The last key difference between Plato and Tolkien stems from the need for action. As Ryn notes, Plato’s idealism tends towards inaction, since conditions in real life never match up to ideal circumstances. In Ryn’s words, “Plato’s moral vision would appear to be romantic in a bad sense: it captures the imagination and seems to elevate the spirit, but the alluring possibility that it contemplates is illusory and subversive to the ability to act in the world as it is. Platonic moral idealism induces the postponement of action and claims nobility for this same passivity.”19 Plato himself experienced this in his own fruitless attempts to enter practical politics.
Contrast this attitude with the clear way in which Tolkien portrays the need for moral action, even though circumstances may not be ideal. When it has been ascertained that Frodo truly does possess the Ring, he laments to Gandalf, “I wish I had never seen the Ring! Why did it come to me? Why was I chosen?” To which Gandalf replies “such questions cannot be answered… But you have been chosen, and you must therefore use such strength and heart and wits as you have.”20
In contrast to this attitude expressing the need for moral action, despite the unideal nature of the circumstances, the character of Denethor serves as an example of the result of Platonic passivity. With the armies of Mordor bearing down on Minas Tirith, Denethor, the High Steward, is asked by Gandalf how he would have things if things would be as he desired. Denethor replies “I would have things as they were in all the days of my life… as in the days of my longfathers before me… But if doom denies this to me, then I will have naught: neither life diminished, nor love halved, nor honour abated.”21 In the end Denethor destroys himself, rather than face the need for moral action in non-deal circumstances.
To Tolkien “the world seemed to be descending into chaos, into a new dark age… and needed sound moral judgement more than ever.”22 In contrast to people like David French who basically argue that it is better to lose than to do “bad things”, Tolkien is overwhelmingly clear that the side of good might do bad things but it is still good. Consider this excerpt from one of his letters: “even if in desperation ‘the West’ had bred or hired hordes of orcs and had cruelly ravaged the lands of other Men as allies of Sauron, or merely to prevent them from aiding him, their Cause would have remained indefeasibly right. As does the cause of those who oppose now the State-God and Marshal This or That as its High Priest.”23 In the words of William Ready, The Lord of the Rings “is a call to arms, a harsh inexorable call to arms. Wherever there is green, sky, sea, and sun and good remaining, Time is running out and bringing in the Dark, that is what the bugle of the book brays.”24
Compared to Tolkien’s portrayal of a rousing call for moral action in the face of adverse circumstances, Platonic idealism leaves the individual stranded and unable to act in the face of extreme, or merely even non-ideal circumstances. In Epistle VII Plato bemoans the state of affairs in his native Athens, but is paralyzed from doing anything at all in the face of the less than ideal circumstances he finds himself in.
Both the written laws and the customs were being corrupted, and that with surprising rapidity. Consequently, although at first I was filled with an ardent desire to engage in public affairs, when I considered all this and saw how things were shifting about anyhow in all directions, I finally became dizzy; and although I continued to consider by what means some betterment could be brought about not only in these matters but also in the government as a whole, yet as regards political action I kept waiting for an opportune moment; until finally, looking at all the States which now exists, I perceived that one and all they are badly governed; for the state of their laws is such as to be almost incurable without some marvelous overhauling and good-luck to boot.25
Plato admits that Athens is in desperate straights, yet fails to act, waiting for the “opportune moment” that never arrives. In the end he contents himself with self-righteous philosophizing, doing nothing to confront the crisis. (Does this remind you of any libertarians you know?)
Conclusion
Plato’s influence on Western Civilization is hard to overstate. While he undoubtedly has made positive contributions, as Ryn argues, his moral and political idealism has the potential to lead to disaster in the face of the real world in which we humans live and operate in. Largely due to the surface level similarity between Gyges ring and the Ring of Power, Tolkien is often associated with a Platonic conception of politics. However, upon reflection, Tolkien is in many ways Plato’s inverse and his work demonstrates the negative consequences that can stem from Plato’s political idealism. Whereas Plato’s imagination is untethered to reality, Tolkien’s moral imagination seeks to illuminate truths of lived reality. Plato believes that a man can arise capable of wielding power without fault, Tolkien argues that power will corrupt even the greatest of men. While Plato scorns the mundane life of this world, Tolkien rejoices in it and finds strength in those who are most tethered to it. Finally, while Plato is left in the lurch when facing real -world circumstances that don’t meet his desired ideal, Tolkien imbues his work with the theme that moral action is an imperative, no matter the circumstances. In each of these instances Tolkien rejects Plato’s political idealism and shows both an alternative and a way in which Plato’s political idealism leads to negative consequences.
Bibliography
Birzer, Bradley J. J.R.R. Tolkien’s Sanctifying Myth: Understanding Middle-Earth. 1st ed. Wilmington, Del.: ISI Books, 2002.
Morse, Robert E. “Rings of Power in Plato and Tolkien.” Mythlore 7, no. 25 (1980).
Nagy, Gergely. “Plato.” J.R.R. Tolkien Encyclopedia. Routledge, 2007.
Plato. “Epistle VII.” In Philosophic Classics Volume I: Thales to Saint Thomas, edited by Walter Kaufman. Prentice-Hall, 1961.
Plato, and C. J Rowe. Republic. London; New York: Penguin, 2012.
Ready, William. Understanding Tolkien and Lord of the Rings. Henry Regnery Company, 1968.
Ryn, Claes G. “The Politics of Transcendence: The Pretentious Passivity of Platonic Idealism.” Humanitas 12, no. 2 (1999).
Tolkien, J. R. R. The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Edited by Humphrey Carpenter and Christopher Tolkien. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1981.
Tolkien, J. R. R. The Lord of the Rings Book Five: The War of the Ring. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1999.
———. The Lord of the Rings Book Four: The Ring Goes East. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1999.
———. The Lord of the Rings Book One: The Ring Sets Out. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2000.
———. The Lord of the Rings Book Six: The End of the Third Age. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1999.
———. The Lord of the Rings Book Two: The Ring Goes South. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1999.
———. The Silmarillion. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1977.
———. The Tolkien Reader. New York: Ballantine Books, 1966.
Ryn, “The Politics of Transcendence: The Pretentious Passivity of Platonic Idealism.” Pg 6
Ryn. Pg 22
Tolkien, The Tolkien Reader. Pg. 74-75
Tolkien. Pg. 75
Birzer, J.R.R. Tolkien’s Sanctifying Myth. Pg. 39
Birzer. Pg 38-39
See Nagy, “Plato.” and Morse, “Rings of Power in Plato and Tolkien.”
Plato and Rowe, Republic. Pg. 362 Section 612b
Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings Book One: The Ring Sets Out. Pg. 81
Tolkien, Carpenter, and Tolkien, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Pg. 64
It should be noted, that for Plato the ideal rulers also have no interest in governing, preferring instead pure contemplation, however, as shall be discussed at a later point in this paper, such reasoning is completely foreign to Tolkien’s conception of power and governance.
Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings Book One: The Ring Sets Out. Pg. 81
Gandalf’s opposite in the form of Saruman will be discussed later in this paper.
Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings Book Four: The Ring Goes East. Pg. 96
Plato and Rowe, Republic. Pg. 181 Line 465c
Tolkien, The Silmarillion. Pg. 3
Ryn, “The Politics of Transcendence: The Pretentious Passivity of Platonic Idealism.” Pg. 24
Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings Book Two: The Ring Goes South.
Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings Book Six: The End of the Third Age. Chpt. 8
Ryn, “The Politics of Transcendence: The Pretentious Passivity of Platonic Idealism.” Pg. 17
Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings Book One: The Ring Sets Out. Pg. 81
Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings Book Five: The War of the Ring. Pg. 146
Birzer, J.R.R. Tolkien’s Sanctifying Myth. Pg. 41
Tolkien, Carpenter, and Tolkien, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Pg. 244
Ready, Understanding Tolkien and Lord of the Rings. Pg. 92
Plato, “Epistle VII.” Pg. 354