We Ache for Peace, but Imagine Justice
Why we’re attracted to noble heroes like Jack Reacher.
If you've read any of my stuff, you probably think I'm a peace-loving guy because of all those articles about meditation and being a monk.
That's true. Mostly.
But that's not the whole story. There's another part of me. Deeper and more primitive.
Let me explain it this way.
We all have our public persona, the mask we wear that reflects who we think we are, who we aspire to be, and who we’re expected to be. But we’ve also got another side of our personality, tucked away, living deep in our subconscious.
You may have it. I know have it.
For many of us this part of our psyche doesn't give a flippity do dah about being all buttoned up and respectable, peace-loving, or playing by all the rules, regulations, and laws of our so-called civilized society, which by the way, is about civilized as a snake pit.
No siree.
This primordial rebel wants to kick the living daylights out of anyone who deserves it.
It doesn’t matter who they are. They could be someone who tried to pull one of those fancy online scams where they impersonate a customer service department, try to get our bank details, and then steal our money. Or maybe they’re a Machiavellian boss who fired us, sending our lives into a tailspin.
The archetype of this noble rebel/warrior has been around for thousands of years. They're the one who rights the wrongs and stands up for the weak and underprivileged. They're the ones who will do whatever it takes to punish those who run off with people's life savings, ruin a child's innocence, or steal a woman's sanctity and safety.
The noble hero.
Ulysses, King Arthur, Robin Hood. Super Man. Batman. Author Michael Connelly's Harry Bosch. Kevin Costner's character in Yellowstone, John Dutton. Jennifer Lawrence's Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games. The list goes on and on.
Fictional heroes are popular because they will kill or put a serious damper on anyone who threatens or harms innocent people. We spend hours and hours reading about and watching them. These fictional heroes generate millions and millions of dollars for Hollywood, book publishers, screenwriters, and authors.
Why are we so enamored with them?
We're attracted because they can do what we can't.
We know we can't go around knee-capping and sending every loser that deserves retribution to the loserville wing in the local hospital. So, we sit in the comfort of our living rooms and process the injustices of modern life by imagining ourselves as noble heroes.
We want the wrongs in life made right.
People who cross the line of decency make an already dangerous world worse. They undermine what we all want: safety, security, and peace.
We think about when we were marginalized, ridiculed, hurt, abused, or dismissed. The flames of injustice still flicker deep down in our psyche, wanting to put a big sizzle on some well-deserving knucklehead.
The untamed, ancient, animalistic part of us doesn't want peace. Instead, it wants justice to be served to those who have crossed the line of human decency.
In our imaginary world, we settle the score with the bully that made fun of us when we were a pimply and awkward fourteen-year-old. We find a way to get back at the mean girls or boys who super glued our locker shut in high school.
We track down and break the legs (sorry, I know it sounds brutal, but this is what I imagined doing) of the now church-going, squeaky-clean suburban banker with two teenage daughters, who, when twenty years old, sexually assaulted an innocent girl (later my girlfriend) on the floor of his frat house and got away with it.
But we don't take the law into our hands.
We imagine what we think is justice. And, we're attracted to anyone, real or fictional, who stands up to or speaks out against tyranny, repression, and evil.
This brings me to Jack Reacher, the best-selling character author Lee Child invented.
If you're not familiar with Jack Reacher, here's the deal. He's a six-foot-five, 250-pound, ex-military cop, now a loner, wandering the U.S.A. with no home or belongings except his toothbrush. Mythologically, he's the silent stranger who rides into town to save the locals from the bullies.
In each of the twenty-seven books, he solves some evil wrongdoing, protects the innocent, punishes the perpetrators, and then hitchhikes or takes a bus out of town into the sunset. He's kind to women, kids, and animals and often gives someone about to get headbutted, kicked, or shot a chance to walk away.
What's not to like about this guy?
Male readers want to be like him. Women want to be with him.
Lee Child cracked the code on the noble hero. His book sales are over 100 million copies, with women making up over half of his readers. Clearly, he's hit a nerve.
And that nerve is alive and well in us. That nerve is ancient and primordial.
It's why many of us are attracted to violent sports like rugby, hockey, boxing, and American NFL football. (In 2022, 82 of America's top 100 TV shows were NFL games).
We watch, mesmerized, cheering when our team delivers a punishing blow. We watch these modern-day gladiators spilling their blood for our entertainment. We watch our heroes dispense justice because deep in our psyche, we want to live in a safe world that we know is far from safe.
So, we use our imagination. We become the hero and feel what cleaning up the bad guys is like. We mentally experience doing something we can't do in real life.
In some strange way, it's healing because it allows us to acknowledge the urge for violence within us without acting on it.
Thank god for our heroes.
They help us cope with a world full of madness.
And they remind us while we imagine justice in our heads, we ache for peace in our hearts.
One more thing —
I’m Don Johnson. I write essays about life, love, and the pursuit of peace, wholeness, and freedom.
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