On the topic of Hogfather, I've gone down a bit of a Jordan Peterson rabbit hole recently. What does that have to do with Terry Pratchett? Mostly, that I find an interesting similarity in Peterson's arguments that mythologies are useful to controlling human behavior:
“All right," said Susan. "I'm not stupid. You're saying humans need... fantasies to make life bearable."
REALLY? AS IF IT WAS SOME KIND OF PINK PILL? NO. HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN. TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE.
"Tooth fairies? Hogfathers? Little—"
YES. AS PRACTICE. YOU HAVE TO START OUT LEARNING TO BELIEVE THE LITTLE LIES.
"So we can believe the big ones?"
YES. JUSTICE. MERCY. DUTY. THAT SORT OF THING.
"They're not the same at all!"
YOU THINK SO? THEN TAKE THE UNIVERSE AND GRIND IT DOWN TO THE FINEST POWDER AND SIEVE IT THROUGH THE FINEST SIEVE AND THEN SHOW ME ONE ATOM OF JUSTICE, ONE MOLECULE OF MERCY. AND YET—Death waved a hand. AND YET YOU ACT AS IF THERE IS SOME IDEAL ORDER IN THE WORLD, AS IF THERE IS SOME...SOME RIGHTNESS IN THE UNIVERSE BY WHICH IT MAY BE JUDGED.
"Yes, but people have got to believe that, or what's the point—"
MY POINT EXACTLY.”
Death here is echoing Plato's "Noble Lie" in The Republic. His belief is that in order for society to rise above Hobbes's bellum omnium contra omnes, humanity requires myths to stir their aspirations to higher ideals.
This is similar to two of America's founders (whose identities escape me at the moment). In personal correspondence, one mentioned that he was contemplating coming out as an atheist. The other cautioned him against it saying that while he personally agreed, some form of theism was required for a society to function.
What I find interesting is the comparison and contrast with another, older British work of fantasy:
"One word, Ma'am," he said, coming back from the fire; limping, because of the pain. "One word. All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won't deny any of what you said. But there's one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things--trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play-world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we're leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that's small loss if the world's as dull a place as you say."
The comparisons are obvious. Both authors are suggesting that belief in a higher narrative is required for virtuous behavior, and can instill virtuous behavior, even if the higher narrative is false. The contrast, of course, is that in The Silver Chair, there is a Narnia.
Peterson seems to fall between the two. He seems open to the idea that there is reality to the metaphysical claims of Christianity, but so far as I have seen, he never affirms it. He seems more interested in the practical outcomes of Christian virtue, i.e. that the world is a better place when people love their neighbors as themselves, and if it's necessary to love God with all one's heart, soul, and mind in order to do so, then let's not dismiss that. It's much the same as the many psychologists who say that if a ritual will make you feel calmer, then you should use it for its practical value whether there's any objective religious or magical "power" in it or not.
Of course, as any sophomore logic student will point out, this smacks of appeal to the consequences. And to the extent that someone makes the statement, "__________ must be true, or else __________ will happen," it is. It is absolutely irrational to say, "Christ must have risen from the dead, or else holodomor."
But if one accepts that beliefs result in actions, then consequences are worth considering. A friend of mine, writing on the occasion of a school shooting, said the question is not "Why does this keep happening?" but rather, "Why does this not happen more often?" It's a good question. If one is to throw out all metanarratives that would appeal to a higher story than the individual's existence, then you quickly find yourself in solipsism. In such a worldview, other individuals are NPCs in your story. And as a college acquaintance noted about playing Halo 2, "[NPC] teammates are just there as ammo drops."
Why, yes, he was a bit scary.
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