Stephen Kent - How the Force Can Fix the World: Lessons on Life, Liberty, and Happiness from a Galaxy Far, Far Away

Publisher of The Federalist & Fox News contributor

O F THE MANY REGRETS I have in life, few rival the time I commanded that Wookiee to kill the poor Twilek girl on the sunny shores of Lehon.

That scene, an infamous ethical decision within the 2003 Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic video game, still haunts many a player who chose the path of the dark side, wanting to unlock the fearsome Force lightning ability without incurring any cost. The moment indicates the depth of archetype and myth contained within the Star Wars universe, inspiring emotion with utterly unfamiliar characters who still manage to make you feel the disturbance of their deaths.

Weve all heard the critique of Star Wars fandom that comes primarily from those who support hard sci-fithough that seems rather laughable when it refers to the broad range of works from Isaac Asimov, Robert Heinlein, Liu Cixin, Neal Stephenson, or Arthur C. Clarke.

Why is someone who dreams of epic stories that span the space between the stars compelled to choose between The Expanse and Dune, Blade Runner or Ghost in the Shell, Star Wars or Star Trek?

Its possible to love the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, you know. You can even love Elvis and the Beach Boys, but not to the same degree.

I grew up devouring the hard sci-fi books and short stories of these authors. Like well-written comic books, they were fantastical and still surprisingly in touch with the deep emotional and ethical nature of humanity. You learned about friendship and honor from Han Solo and Captain America alike.

But no universe approaches the kind of depth that Star Wars continually reaches. Dismiss it if you wish. Deride it all as savvy toy marketing to kids or tireless service to fanboys with easter eggs disguised as a plot. In a free society youre free to be wrong. Star Wars is the closest thing we have to modern Arthurian legend.

Knights, wizards, and princesses (who are most assuredly not damsels in distress) confronting the monsters of a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, speak to the deepest heroic ambitions within all of us. Leia slaying Jabba is as iconic as Perseus offing Medusa; Anakin and Obi-Wans face-off surrounded by the flames of Mustafar is as intense as Achilless duel with Hector; and then there is the metal-clad Din Djarin, the Mandalorian, who overcomes a Krayt dragon on the desolate world of Tatooine.

Fairy tales do not give the child his first idea of bogey, G. K. Chesterton wrote. What fairy tales give the child is his first clear idea of the possible defeat of bogey. The baby has known the dragon intimately ever since he had an imagination. What the fairy tale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon.

Star Wars has far more to offer us than logic puzzles and the increasingly woke world of comic books, fantasy, and science fiction. The Skywalker family drama is Shakespearean in its stakes, roiling at the center of a maelstrom of galactic conflict which has surged before and will arise again. The series compels us to weigh the arguments of all sides. The way of the Sith may seem on its face like a religious excuse for an evil fascistic regimebut what if it cares more about the direction of the galaxy, on preventing chaos and providing order, than the uncaring, naive, and often aloof Jedi?

One of the best minor characters in Jon Favreaus Mandalorian series on Disney+ is Mayfeld, depicted by GOAT Boston comedian Bill Burr. Mayfeld is a jaded mercenary who views the work of the Rebellion and the Empire alike as nothing but a power play that is destructive to the invisible masses who are caught in the crossfire. His sarcasm turns serious, though, when confronted with a reminder of the evils in which he was complicit during his past as an Imperial soldier. Mayfeld is presented with a dangerous choice. Rather than shirk it for fear of the fray, he chooses a side.

Star Wars speaks to us as a timeless representation of human nature at war with its worst impulses. This is why it has something to say to us today. The very title is a lie. The war was never about the divide between the stars. As Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn wrote in The Gulag Archipelago, The line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties eitherbut right through every human heart.

There is still some good in you. I can sense it. Even among those of us who made that Wookiee kill that Twilek. Diogenes looked for his honest man inside every crypt and cavern, Chesterton wrote, but he never thought of looking inside the thief. This means there is hope, even for the most broken of us, even in the dead-end isolation of a desert under twin suns.

May the Force be with you.