Personal agency and the problem of fate

The ability to act; to be cognizant of the decision one makes, for me is one of the central reasons morality is something which can exist. The ability to make a choice is, likewise, a necessary component of any sort of system of ethics. As such, I am simply unable to get my head around the concept of morality in a fatalistic universe. If ethics are to have any meaning, individual volition necessarily follows. If one could only ever act in a single fashion, could only ever choose A (and necessarily must choose A), then there is no personal involvement in the decision. Rather, there is no decision at all and the selection of A, is simply an involuntary reaction to the circumstance an individual finds themselves in. Aside from utterly neutering any meaning in ethics, I do believe it is demonstrably false. People make decisions all the time, and will often change their minds a dozen times, depending on the circumstance. The fatalist would argue that, regardless of the deliberation, the final action was necessary, and could never have been altered; the so called "illusion of free choice". Where does that leave us then?

Two mythic perspectives to consider through a truncated comparison of eschatologies: Revelations v. Ragnarok. The importance of the, to borrow a term "alpha and omega", from a mythological perspective is that the cosmogenic and eschatological narratives of a given culture or religion tend to bring into focus what is really important. All myth does this to some degree, but these two specific types of myth crystallize the essence of how a given culture/religion understands the way the cosmos function, and how to properly interact with it. The current running through both the Book of Revelations, and Ragnarok, is that of the inevitability of the events depicted; these events will transpire, regardless of any action to the contrary. Both stories involve the end of the cosmos (as it currently exists), untold horror and suffering, and the death of the vast majority of humanity. The response each group is to have, to all the destruction and horror, could not be more different, and from this we catch a glimpse of how each see's the role of personal volition in the face of the inevitable.

Before I get into a more direct comparison, a note regarding "The Book of Revelations". I understand this particular text, first and foremost, through the context in which it was written and the audience it was written for. It was written at a time of heightened persecution, and reads largely as a revenge fantasy; though Christians would have to endure for now, in the not too distant future they would emerge victorious against their persecutors. The intention of the text was to provide solace for the faithful, and to assure them their suffering was not in vain. It was not, I am convinced, meant to depict events centuries later. For anyone who is interested in understanding the historic context, I would highly recommend Jonathan Kirsch's, A History of the End of the World. With that proviso out of the way, the vast majority of Christians do not seem to understand said book in its historic context, or if they do also, see it as a book of prophecy and a genuine eschatology. The vast majority of Biblical literalists, at least, understand it to be nothing short of the future history of the end of the world, and whats more eagerly await the events; if not outright doing all they can to speed up the process (but more on this later). So, my comparison will  be the world view espoused by said literalists, as opposed to the historic context of the text.

Throughout the BoR, the Apostle John witnesses the destruction of the earth, the (rather horrific) death of the vast majority of humanity at the hands of angels, the baseness and cruelty of those unrepentant humans, the salvation of the faithful, a pitched battle between the forces of the "lamb" and those of "the devil", the rise and fall of the anti-Christ, and he final destruction of the earth and final judgement of every human. What becomes painfully obvious is the utter lack of agency available to humanity. The vast majority are little more than insects to be trampled upon by the two "divine" forces, before being thrown into an everlasting furnace to be burned for all eternity. Those who are judged fit to not be tortured, equally play no role within the narrative, and are just as powerless as those judged "wicked". The closest thing that mimics agency is the notion that those who repent will be saved from so terrible a fate. This of course is one of many theological battles within the wide umbrella of Christendom, and different religions within have different views on how much personal choice plays a role in salvation, and how much is simply at the "grace of God". It has been my experience that literalists lean towards the idea of grace trumping personal volition, so even in that, humans have no say in their fate.

Salvation is something that is external, is enabled by the grace of the Christian god, and is absolutely necessary to avoid suffering eternal torment (among other things). This perspective necessarily reinforces its own existence (as would any world view), and instills in those who ascribe to it the very real need for the figure of a saviour. No matter what an individual does in their life, it will never be enough to merit them a place in their paradisaical afterlife. Through this we also see the importance of the idea of submissions and subservience as being key religious virtues.

Contrast this with the events depicted in Ragnarok (which again are too varied and detailed to go into specifics), which chronicles the final battle between the forces of the Aesir vs. those of the Jotun. The text is again one of prophecy (though rarely interpreted as literally or historically as Revelation is), speaking about the history of a future event. In fact many of the tales in the Eddas set up a number of key players and events which directly lead to the twilight of the gods; the inevitability is palpable. Like Revelation, there is horror and death, and the sundering of the very cosmos to its core; there is also the belief that hope springs eternal and some future state of existence will arise from the destruction. That's about as far as the similarities go, and the core message is considerably different. So to is the role that humanity plays in the last battle; humans have agency and are able to effect change. Those warriors who have lived in Odin's halls since they day of their deaths, and those who yet live stand shoulder to shoulder with the Aesir against the Jotun. God and human fight and die alongside one another, each hoping to win a future for their respective kindred. Of course the cosmos are eventually consumed by ice and fire, but there are survivors, both human and god. It is these who inherit the will of those past and strive for tomorrow.

In a more cosmic way of looking at the events, interpretations tend to fall on the notion of being cyclical (if entropic) as opposed to lateral. In such a view then, the allegoric nature of the present generations striving to do all they can to win a future for those yet to come, supports the idea that individual humans can and do shape the course of their own lives, if within the context of fate. Death is assured, but to despair in the face of this certainty is to miss the significance of what one can accomplish. Further, there is no indication of the gods coming to save humanity from some foe; humans have as much responsibility to keep destruction at bay as the gods themselves. Thus we see the idea of Valor and Strength as being important virtues.

Two different eschatologies, two different mythological perspectives, two different world views, two different course of action in similar circumstances. The inevitability of death confronted, and two different responses to it. One where personal agency is dubious at best (and absent at worst), where humanity is simply swept away, insignificant and powerless to influence the unfolding of history. The other, where personal agency is never questioned, where humanity is expected to stand for itself, active in shaping its own destiny. I must admit that from my own perspective, the response of the later would be my choice; things are going to happen which you may not be able to do anything to change, but who you are is determined by your response to circumstance and fate.

I finish with a quote from the film Mononoke Hime:

You can not alter your fate, my prince. However you can rise to meet it, if you choose.

The Hard Choice

It would be wrong to say that I am a fan of eschatology, but it does fascinate me to some extent. I think that the way a culture believes the end of time will occur says as much about it as its cosmogenic narratives do. Unfortunately, for those of use with a proclivity for Celtic cultures, we lack both; or what we have are tiny fragments with tantalizing hints of a much broader set of complimentary myths. Of all the eschatological narratives our there, being discussed and bandied about, my personal favourite is that of Ragnarok, or the twilight of the Aesir. It has everything that makes a story both memorable and enjoyable: prophecies fulfilled, old scores being settled, single combats to the death and the last, great stand of those who would defend the cosmos from oblivion; those willing to sacrifice all they are to purchase a future for those who may come next. I used to balk at the fatalistic tendencies inherent in the tales of the Aesir, and ponder why none of the gods would reject a future that had been written, but not yet come to pass. I questioned the tales and the perception of impotent gods, unable to do anything to change their fate. It took me a while, and some deep discussions with some very wise and eloquent Asatruars to realize that in my dedication of the rejection of fatalism, I missed the point. Perhaps the best example to illustrate this would be to use one of the very episodes in question, a precursor to the main event, so to speak. It is a story involving Tyr, and how he came to lose his hand.

Tyr, a member of the Aesir, god of single combat (among other things) along with the other gods, had grown concerned of the growth of the wolf Fenrir, one of the three children of Loki and Angrboða, and so resolved to chain the great beast, for they had foreknowledge of the doom which would occur as a result of him. They tried three times to bound the wolf, and three times he broke the fetters they laid about him. Finally, Odin resolved to have the dwarves forge a special ribbon, Gleipnir, which would finally restrain Fenrir. The wolf, sensing that some trick was being performed upon him, would only allow himself to be retrained if one of the gods laced their hand in his mouth. Were he unable to break free, he would bite off the hand of the god. The Aesir balked at this, except Tyr, who placed his hand in the gaping maw of the wolf, who was then bound. Unable to break free of Gleipnir, and having realized the cunning of the Aesir, bit down and severed Tyr's hand from his arm. The wolf was thus bound but at a high price.

Looking at it from a fatalistic standpoint, there was no prophecy that Fenrir would devour Tyr's hand, but there were prophecies of the ill which would befall the world, because of Fenrir. Tyr had the ability to say no, to balk as the other Gods did, knowing full well what would happen once the wolf became wise to the Aesir's deceit. But had he balked, he would have not been Tyr, the embodiment of the warrior, god of single combat and heroic glory. Tyr understood exactly what would happen, knew the outcome, yet willingly bought the entrapment of Fenrir with his own hand. This speaks to one of the most important themes running through the Icelandic sagas, the hard choice.

The hard choice is never pleasant and only marginally better than the alternative, but that sliver of distinction is how honour abides. It is easy to have lofty ideals when it is convenient, but true virtue is tested when things go wrong. If you suddenly find yourself staring at the hard choice, and your resolve fails, what then of morality? What then of honour? Lofty ideals to be abandoned when they become a burden, will forever remain just that; esoteric and highfalutin sound bites. Those willing to make the hard choice, willing to embody the ideals they espouse, can justify their virtue and be held as honorable. This is one of the morals of the story of Tyr that I think has immense value, and it is a lesson that is sorely needed.