UPDATE: Due to the beautiful and monumental amount of feedback we got on this article, we’ve updated the list with 47 more documentaries, films, and compilations; all submitted by YOU, the community!
Indeed, the Star Wars saga taps into the very storytelling devices that have structured myths and religious tales for centuries. And with every new film, fans are able to reinforce their unique communities in a world that has grown, in many ways, increasingly isolated.
A universal hero
Lucas freely admits he based his Star Wars epic on the “hero’s quest” that mythologist Joseph Campbell, in his 1949 book Hero with a Thousand Faces, argued underscores many myths and religious tales.
According to Campbell, hero quests have similar trajectories: the hero leaves his ordinary world and ventures to a place of supernatural wonders. He faces a series of trials to prove his mettle, survives a supreme ordeal, is granted some sort of boon or treasure and returns home to share his knowledge or treasure with those he left behind.
Following this formula, Lucas substituted his own characters for the heroes, villains, and saviors of earlier hero quests.
Take Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope: the hero (Luke Skywalker) leaves his ordinary world (Tatooine) after receiving “a call to adventure” (Princess Leia’s hologram message) and learns he has the special talents of a Jedi. A supportive mentor (Obi Wan Kenobi) offers supernatural aid (light saber) and guidance. Then Luke faces a series of trials to prove his mettle (storm troopers, Jabba the Hutt), survives a supreme ordeal (Death Star, Darth Vader) and returns home wiser and victorious.
I became fascinated with how culture is transmitted through fairy tales and myth. Fairy tales are about how people learn about good and evil…it’s the most intimate struggle that we cope with – trying to do the right thing and what’s expected of us by society, by our peers, and in our hearts.
These stories typically appear during times of doubt and can help viewers reclaim the goodness and innocence in themselves, reminding them they can overcome the evil they see in the world. When Lucas set out to create Star Wars – against the backdrop of Vietnam, Watergate and the assassinations of the Kennedy brothers and Martin Luther King, Jr – he had his work cut out for him.
Lucas acknowledges he wrote Star Wars because he believed our society was in dire need of fairy tales, myth and fantasy – a “new myth” would provide a “New Hope” for an audience that had grown cynical and demoralized.
Today’s anxieties are just as acute. Exhausted by the wars in the Middle East, faced with global terrorism and beset with economic woes, the American people yearn for a mythic narrative that will reaffirm their view of the world, with a traditional American hero who will triumph over evil and ensure “everything will turn out okay.”
Looking into the mirror
Lucas is sometimes accused of promoting escapism. But he’s actually tapping into some key facets of the human condition. After all, it’s in the telling of mythic or religious stories that we attempt to answer fundamental questions like “Who am I?” and, ultimately, “What does it all mean?”
It’s no wonder, then, that in an increasingly secularized society, many find themselves gazing away from the pulpit, instead finding meaning in the stories playing out on screens in living rooms and movie theaters across the country.
Film is sometimes described as a “dream screen” – a mirror, when held in front of an audience, reflects both the personal and collective subconscious of our culture. It’s a place where all our hopes, fears and desires find expression.
Considering Star Wars’ mythic foundation, it’s not surprising that it packs such a powerful, emotional punch, stirring the hearts of passionate fans yearning to see the next chapter of the Star Wars universe.
Myths are about creating meaning, reinforcing connections between the I and Thou, and mending the rift between the sacred and profane. They give us heroes we can identify with, who allow us to eventually realize that divinity is not outside the self, but within. In the beginning, Luke might be the character you wanted to pretend to be. With time “playing Luke” helps you become the person you always wanted to be.
Transcending the screen
If all roads of the hero’s journey lead inward, then film, as a shared cultural artifact, begs us to take the first step.
Unlike a simple, standalone artifact (such as a piece of pottery), film is a shared experience. For the audience, the story, its characters and unique props (like the lightsaber) become stored in an emotional and psychological cache. Filed into memory, they become part of the viewer’s personal history and identity.
Rather than Star Wars existing as something outside of viewers, it takes root within. Many were exposed to the Star Wars films as children. Some acted out scenes at home and at school, investing time and creative energy into a fictional universe and characters who became like an extended family. For them, their “best birthday ever” became indistinguishable from the experience of playing with friends, the cutting of the cake – and their new Star Wars action figures.
In this way, Star Wars no longer remains just a film; it becomes much more.
For this reason, minor changes in the Star Wars narrative can unnerve fans. Denying that Han Solo shot first is like finding out you’re adopted; it’s akin to changing your fundamental understanding of the truth.
Forging connections to the past
Star Wars has further transcended the screen in the form of t-shirts, action figures, theme parks, and in cosplay and fan fiction.
As powerful as any holy relic (which, among believers, can provide affirmation and emotional support), buying and collecting Star Wars merchandise can trigger memories of the past. Accessing positive memories and tapping into nostalgia have been shown to be a critical component of forming a meaningful personal narrative, and the simple act of picking up a toy light saber can return fans to childhood, to a time when they felt happy and secure.
Even if someone didn’t have the rosiest childhood, he or she can still escape to the Star Wars universe, creating an alternate reality where cherished friends, caring mentors and happily-ever-afters await.
Situated in an advertising and media landscape that often overpromises and underdelivers (“Buy this and you will be happy”), the world of Star Wars helps fans create meaning when they might otherwise be unfulfilled.
Cosplaying for community
Watching a Star Wars film or buying Star Wars memorabilia doesn’t only remind us of the “good old days.” It serves a more meaningful purpose: it builds community in a world that has grown increasingly isolated, that has traded the physical for the virtual.
If the decline of social capital in public life (which includes religion) is partially responsible for this phenomenon, the rise of technology is equally at fault.
On the other hand, Star Wars, via play – whether it’s cosplay or swinging a light saber with a friend – demands social interaction, communication and engagement. (Some theorists have even argued that play served as the seed from which all human culture, including religion, evolved.)
Waiting in line for days to buy tickets, wearing your favorite Star Wars t-shirt to school and dressing up as your favorite character at a convention are all social touchstones – icebreakers that facilitate a sense of community and belonging.
It is in this shared storytelling space where history lives and meaning dwells. As cultural critic Lewis Hyde writes, meaningful stories can induce a “moment of grace, a communion, a period during which we too know the hidden coherence of our being and feel the fullness of our lives.”
Once upon a time, we gathered around fires to tell stories. Today we assemble in movie theaters to watch with wonder and awe the flicker of our stories on the screen.
Star Wars is, of course, different from religion in a number of ways. But it still allows us to transcend the everyday and enter a sacred realm – a place where we can glimpse the Holy Land of our better selves and become the heroes we want to be.
“One doesn’t expect Dr Frankenstein to show up in a wool sweater,” wrote political commentator Charles Krauthammer, ominously, in the March 1997 issue of Time magazine. He was referring to British scientist Dr Ian Wilmut, who eight months earlier had successfully created Dolly, the world’s most famous sheep, by cloning her from another adult sheep’s cell.
Krauthammer’s criticism was unsparing. “This was not supposed to happen,” he insisted. Dolly was “a cataclysmic” creature. But PPL Therapeutics, the company responsible for funding the science behind Dolly, was undeterred, and four years later produced five cloned female pigs. Again, the news provoked outrage. Lisa Lange, a spokeswoman for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, echoed Krauthammer when she dismissed justifications of cloning: “There’s always a reason given to validate these Frankenstein-like experiments.”
Invoking Mary Shelley’s myth of Frankenstein is standard fare in arguments over controversial science. In 1992, Boston College English professor Paul Lewis coined the term “Frankenfood” in a letter to the New York Times that argued for stricter FDA regulation of genetically modified foods. “If they want to sell us Frankenfood,” he wrote, “perhaps it’s time to gather the villagers, light some torches and head to the castle.” Dr William Davis, author of the bestselling book Wheat Belly, refers to modern strains of wheat as “frankenwheat,” and then blames them for nearly every chronic illness imaginable. And 19 years before Dolly, in-vitro fertilization pioneer Dr Patrick Steptoe tried to preempt such criticism when he defended his role in the birth of Louise Brown, the world’s first “test-tube” baby. “I am not a wizard or a Frankenstein,” he pleaded.
Steptoe was wise to dissociate himself from Frankenstein. Research suggests that story archetypes – encoded in powerful, culturally pervasive myths – may play a crucial role in how people process new information. In their studies of jury verdicts, for instance, psychologists Nancy Pennington and Reid Hastie found that jurors made decisions, in part, by fitting the evidence into previously defined narrative structures.
The persuasive power of these structures has led Rutgers law professor Ruth Anne Robbins to argue that attorneys should represent their clients as “archetypal heroes” (her example of choice is from another modern myth, Harry Potter). Heroes are more likely to be perceived sympathetically, while villains – Dr Frankenstein and Dr Steptoe alike – will be perceived as criminals, independent of the evidence.
Indeed, myths appear to lead consistently away from the truth, not toward it. Researchers from the University of Oregon have found that pairing statistics with narratives detracts from accurate evaluations of risk. And in a 2014 British study of vaccination intentions, subjects exposed to the powerful narrative archetype of a conspiracy – complete with “secret acts of powerful, malevolent forces” – were more likely to fear vaccines, despite access to evidence of vaccine safety.
The Frankenstein myth is particularly potent, since it recapitulates elements of the world’s most famous myth. Temptation leads Adam and Eve, like Dr Frankenstein, to acquire forbidden knowledge, which results in a cataclysmic fall from grace.
The potency of this narrative – the sinful knowledge seeker who departs from nature – worries New York University bioethicist Arthur Caplan, who believes it can shut down rational, nuanced dialogue. He told me:
You have to be very careful about deploying these powerful myths. There’s no reason to believe that technology, in general, is inherently dangerous or out of control. Not only that, Frankenstein can narrow our focus to biological and reproductive science. Other technologies, weaponized satellites and military technology, those don’t attract the same kind of criticism.
People don’t just live by archetypal myths – they are constituted by them. Group identity, from religion to politics to race, depends on an investment in the truth of a few indispensable stories, which in turn serve as shorthand justifications of one’s preferred moral and social order. “When you tell a story about your client, you pick a storyline that people can identify with,” Robbins explains of her approach. This helps explain why mythically justified beliefs are so resistant to evidence: changing them means changing oneself.
The biasing power of myth is disconcerting, but it also points to a potential solution. If, in some cases, narrative can trump scientific evidence, perhaps literary criticism can come to the rescue.
Take the myth of Frankenstein. As Krauthammer, Lewis, and Davis tell it, genetically modified organisms are dangerous, unnatural and disgusting, and those who oppose them are the archetypal heroes. The villains are foolish, power-hungry scientists like Wilmut and Steptoe, whose unchecked hubris threatens to plunge mankind into darkness.
In the original tale, however, Dr Frankenstein’s creation is no monster, but rather a kind, gentle Creature. Tragically, the Creature soon learns to fear humans, who, terrified by his appearance, drive him away with stones and never come to understand his true identity.
The real villain in Shelley’s story is neither Dr Frankenstein nor his creation – it is the intolerant, torch-wielding villagers. Only after experiencing their cruelty does the Creature become a monster, exacting revenge on those who refused to give him a chance. This is the real myth, the original myth, and it suggests a radically different moral and social order than the more familiar version. If we embrace it, maybe the evidence about controversial science will start to tell a different story.
The central message of Tomorrowland is that optimism about science and its role in the future is preferable to the fashionable despair of dystopia and destruction. And what better symbol of American scientific progress and idealism than the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA)? While much of Tomorrowland is concerned with the more pulpy and outlandish… Continue reading →
Luke’s missing hand is supposed to foreshadow that he is becoming more like Vader, and as the new trailer demonstrates, Luke is destined to eventually succumb to the dark side of the force.
Modern prosthesis in the real world are becoming more functional, including the ability to control movement of prosthetic limbs through brainwave reading technology, and in some cases directly attaching electronics to nerve tissue. These movement-controlling features are one way, with the brain signals ordering a machine to following commands properly.
Just around the corner from now, prosthesis will be able to send signals back to the brain, allowing the user to experience a sense of touch in their artificial limb. When this technology becomes available, the brain will actually be communicating with an artificial limb, an external piece of machinery that can influence the brain and create false impressions in specific areas of the mind.
The Star Wars movies don’t always explain how their technology works but there is an obvious symbolic pattern. When characters in Star Wars get an artificial limb, it works better than anything we have in the real world, today. It looks like a real hand, blending seamlessly with the humanoid it’s attached to. Most importantly, it can feel, even feel pain when a robotic tool pokes his fingers to test the tactile sensitivity.
Luke’s new hand can receive signals from his brain but it can also send signals back into his brain. Symbolically, this is the beginning of Luke’s long journey to the dark side. Luke is becoming more like his father in more than one way.
When this thought initially struck me, I went so far as to speculate that maybe the dark side of the force lives within the machinery, the computerized components of the Star Wars universe’s technology. There are some other examples of the light side of the force helping Luke aim photon torpedoes in order to blow up the original Death Star, which he did by specifically abandoning the computerized guidance system.
The flaw in this theory is this: The Emperor is the only character who can use the dark side of the force besides Darth Vader, when the original Trilogy, A New Hope, Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi were made. The Emperor doesn’t seem to have prostheses.
Back in our world it’s a dangerous precedent to associate cybernetics with evil, as workable prostheses become more likely to happen and a superstition associated with artificial limbs could become a form of bigotry against the disabled people who use prostheses. While no one wants to create a false worry, making a fully tactile prosthetic hand would actually involve manipulating the brain and indeed the mind itself.
Can an image, sound, video or string of words influence the human mind so strongly the mind is actually harmed or controlled? Cosmoso takes a look at technology and the theoretical future of psychological warfare with Part Three of an ongoing series.
A lot of the responses I got to the first two installments talked about religion being weaponized memes. People do fight and kill on behalf of their religions and memes play a large part in disseminating the message and information religions have to offer.
Curved bullet meme is a great one. Most of the comments I see associated with this image have to do with how dumb someone would have to be to believe it would work. Some people have an intuitive understanding of spacial relations. Some might have a level of education in physics or basic gun safety and feel alarm bells going off way before they’d try something this dumb. It’s a pretty dangerous idea to put out there, though, because a percentage of people the image reaches could try something stupid. Is it a viable memetic weapon? Possibly~! I present to you, the curved bullet meme.
The dangers here should be obvious. The move starts with “begin trigger-pull with pistol pointed at chest (near heart)” and anyone who is taking it seriously beyond is Darwin Award material.
Whoever created this image has no intention of someone actually trying it. So, in order for someone to fall for this pretty obvious trick, they’d have to be pretty dumb. There is another way people fall for tricks, though.
There is more than one way to end up being a victim of a mindfuck and being ignorant is part of a lot of them but ignorance can actually be induced. In the case of religion, there are several giant pieces of information or ways of thinking that must be gotten all wrong before someone would have to believe that the earth is coming to an end in 2012, or the creator of the universe wants you to burn in hell for eternity for not following the rules. By trash talking religion in general, I’ve made a percentage of readers right now angry, and that’s the point. Even if you take all the other criticisms about religion out of the mix, we can all agree that religion puts its believers in the position of becoming upset or outraged by very simple graphics or text. As a non-believer, a lot of the things religious people say sound as silly to me as the curved bullet graphic seems to a well-trained marksman.
To oversimplify it further: religions are elaborate, bad advice. You can inoculate yourself against that kind of meme but the vast majority of people out there cling desperately, violently to some kind of doctrine that claims to answer one or more of the most unanswerable parts of life. When people feel relief wash over them, they are more easily duped into doing what it takes to keep their access to that feeling.
There are tons of non-religious little memes out there that simply mess with anyone who follows bad advice. It can be a prank but the pranks can get pretty destructive. Check out this image from the movie Fight Club:
Thinking no one fell for this one? For one thing, it’s from a movie, and in the movie it was supposed to be a mean-spirited prank that maybe some people fell for. Go ahead and google “fertilize used motor oil”, though, and see how many people are out there asking questions about it. It may blow your mind…
Jonathan Howard
Jonathan is a freelance writer living in Brooklyn, NY
Science Watch: EMDrive Today is Star Wars Day. In light of that, including the fact that Star Wars: The Force Awakens comes out this December, I wanted to share with you information about a new way to travel. It seems that we may soon be close to warp drive or hyperdrive technology. There has been lots… Continue reading →
It makes for a sensational headline but NASA didn’t even come close to discovering warp technology.
The mechanism behind their fuel-free propulsion has no clear link to warping space-time. In fact, space-time is not proven or understood to exist as a material substance able to warp. It’s all nonsense. So what really happened?
Richard Feynman once said: “The first principle is that you must not fool yourself – and you are the easiest person to fool.”
You should have been suspicious when the story made the rounds on social media. The headlines were claiming NASA successfully tested something called the EM Drive. The EM drive is awesome, and it’s real science. It’s a propulsion engine doesn’t use propellant, which seems to violate the laws of physics by creating a reaction with no initial action.
First, let’s examine the actual finding. NASA has developed a hollow device that can be pumped full of electromagnetic radiation which reflects back-and-forth, tapped inside the chamber, generates thrust, causing the device to accelerate in a direction based onthe shape of the chamber. You might ahve seen the story or similar reports over the last year because iterations of it have been built by Roger Shawyer (the EM Drive), one from a Chinese group led by Juan Yang, and one from Guido Fetta (the Cannae Drive), all claiming successful thrust. The stories on science news sites claim the acceleration created is caused by warped space of an Alcubierre Drive, the completely fictional “Star Trek” design.
Here are some problems. First off, none of the tests showed results from gadations in power. If this is a viable prototype for an engine, the science behind it hasn’t proven why a tiny acceleration in relation to a huge amount of relative power is worth any sort of real consideration for space travel. It’s a weak engine with no sign of how it can be scaled.
Secondly, the thrust they created is so small it might just be a mistake in mathematics or caused by an unknown factor, unrelated to warp tech. A true test requires an isolated environment, with atmospheric, gravitational and electromagnetic effects removed from the equation.
Thirdly, good science is reproducible. These tests lack a transparent design so no one else can verify that this actually works.
Finally, a real report has to be created that can be peer-reviewed and understood before irresponsibly publishing the claims.
Optimism of this sort, claiming to be able to put people on mars with a warp engine, is not scientifically valid. This latest group declared they have broken the previously-held laws of physics. They assume we can scale up and implement this engine for space propulsion just because of some questionably positive results. They claim to be distorting space, they claim they might be causing light to go faster by approximately 10^-18 m/s. They made these claims without actually proving them, and told the general public, spreading misinfo.
Harold “Sonny” White at NASA, has made extraordinary claims about warp drive in the past. He is totally the kind of guy who would jump to warp drive as a conclusion. There is nothing in NASA’s report that shows they’ve created a warp drive. Sorry, Star Trek and Star Wars fans. Most likely this is a public relations move to get America and the world science communities more excited about space travel and science education.
Jonathan Howard
Jonathan is a freelance writer living in Brooklyn, NY
