Your Hero is my Villain
A Lesson from Shakespeare
1. Projecting Meaning Onto Leaders
We often project meaning onto leaders we either support or despise. These projections carry our hopes, fears, and ideals, shaping our perception of these figures in ways that may extend beyond who they actually are. The leaders become, in our minds, villains or heroes.
2. Justifying Our Projections
Even when we recognize that we’re projecting our own meanings onto leaders, we’re often quick to justify these interpretations, insisting that the leader “deserves” the role we’ve assigned them. For example, we might believe a leader deserves to be cast as a hero because of their alignment with our values or their achievements in areas we care about deeply. Conversely, we may feel a leader deserves to be seen as a villain because of decisions or actions we view as harmful or morally wrong. This justification process can be surprisingly self-affirming: it reinforces our belief in our own worldview and allows us to hold onto these simplified labels, reassuring ourselves that our judgments are not only valid but necessary.
3. The Power of Archetypal Feelings
The meanings we project carry powerful archetypal feelings that shape how we see the world, often going far beyond the individual leaders themselves. We start to fit them, and those who support or oppose them, into roles of “villains” and “heroes.” This tendency doesn’t just color our views of these figures; it influences our broader worldview, embedding these archetypes into our approach to issues, relationships, and social interactions. Our need for “villains” to despise and “heroes” to support reinforces these polarized categories, making it difficult to see people—or situations—in more nuanced or multifaceted ways.
4. Blocking Communication Across Divides
These archetypal feelings are immensely powerful, often acting as barriers that prevent us from truly engaging with those on the other side of an issue. When we project villainy onto others' heroes and heroism onto their villains, it becomes almost impossible to empathize or even acknowledge the validity of opposing perspectives. This division stifles open conversation, leaving us trapped in echo chambers where only like-minded voices are heard.
5. Overcoming Cycles of Distrust
As long as these archetypes hold sway, they can cloud our judgment, fuel suspicion, and create emotional walls that block any real understanding or dialogue across divides. This cycle of mutual misunderstanding and mistrust perpetuates polarization, making it ever harder to bridge the gaps between us. Only by recognizing and challenging these deep-seated archetypes can we begin to break through these barriers, allowing for genuine dialogue that acknowledges complexity and fosters common ground.
6. Listening to the Other Side
Recognizing the ambiguity in these leaders—and the projections we impose—can help us see them not as full-blooded villains or heroes, but as human beings with complex traits that lean in both directions. This recognition allows us to listen more openly to people “on the other side.” It is important to listen to people on the other side—those whose heroes were our villains, and whose villains were our heroes—because only through such understanding can we begin to build healthy relationships that transcend hatred. By stepping beyond the rigid boundaries of our projections, we open the door to empathy and connection, acknowledging the humanity in others even when their perspectives challenge our own. This mutual recognition fosters dialogue over division, creating a foundation for relationships that are rooted in respect rather than animosity, and ultimately paving the way toward a more compassionate and cohesive society.
7. Withdrawing Projections while Sticking to Principle
The key is to begin to withdraw these projections while sticking to principles and remaining honest about the genuine good or harm that leaders and others are capable of. Recognizing a leader’s humanity doesn’t mean ignoring their impact—positive or negative—but rather seeing them as a complex person capable of both. By stepping back from our projections, we can allow space for a more nuanced understanding, where praise and criticism are rooted in their actions rather than our preconceived archetypes. This approach can help us engage with others in a way that’s both fair and honest, acknowledging the good and the harm without reducing them to a single role.
8. Learning from Shakespeare
Shakespeare can help us in this, as his works—especially Henry V—illuminate the complexities of human nature, often showing us the gray areas between good and evil, hero and villain. In Henry V, Shakespeare presents a king whose leadership is both inspiring and ruthless, compelling us to grapple with both his valor and his flaws. Through characters and narratives like these, Shakespeare invites us to see people in all their ambiguity and depth, reminding us of our shared humanity and the dangers of simplistic labels.
We often project meaning onto leaders we either support or despise. These projections carry our hopes, fears, and ideals, shaping our perception of these figures in ways that may extend beyond who they actually are. The leaders become, in our minds, villains or heroes.
2. Justifying Our Projections
Even when we recognize that we’re projecting our own meanings onto leaders, we’re often quick to justify these interpretations, insisting that the leader “deserves” the role we’ve assigned them. For example, we might believe a leader deserves to be cast as a hero because of their alignment with our values or their achievements in areas we care about deeply. Conversely, we may feel a leader deserves to be seen as a villain because of decisions or actions we view as harmful or morally wrong. This justification process can be surprisingly self-affirming: it reinforces our belief in our own worldview and allows us to hold onto these simplified labels, reassuring ourselves that our judgments are not only valid but necessary.
3. The Power of Archetypal Feelings
The meanings we project carry powerful archetypal feelings that shape how we see the world, often going far beyond the individual leaders themselves. We start to fit them, and those who support or oppose them, into roles of “villains” and “heroes.” This tendency doesn’t just color our views of these figures; it influences our broader worldview, embedding these archetypes into our approach to issues, relationships, and social interactions. Our need for “villains” to despise and “heroes” to support reinforces these polarized categories, making it difficult to see people—or situations—in more nuanced or multifaceted ways.
4. Blocking Communication Across Divides
These archetypal feelings are immensely powerful, often acting as barriers that prevent us from truly engaging with those on the other side of an issue. When we project villainy onto others' heroes and heroism onto their villains, it becomes almost impossible to empathize or even acknowledge the validity of opposing perspectives. This division stifles open conversation, leaving us trapped in echo chambers where only like-minded voices are heard.
5. Overcoming Cycles of Distrust
As long as these archetypes hold sway, they can cloud our judgment, fuel suspicion, and create emotional walls that block any real understanding or dialogue across divides. This cycle of mutual misunderstanding and mistrust perpetuates polarization, making it ever harder to bridge the gaps between us. Only by recognizing and challenging these deep-seated archetypes can we begin to break through these barriers, allowing for genuine dialogue that acknowledges complexity and fosters common ground.
6. Listening to the Other Side
Recognizing the ambiguity in these leaders—and the projections we impose—can help us see them not as full-blooded villains or heroes, but as human beings with complex traits that lean in both directions. This recognition allows us to listen more openly to people “on the other side.” It is important to listen to people on the other side—those whose heroes were our villains, and whose villains were our heroes—because only through such understanding can we begin to build healthy relationships that transcend hatred. By stepping beyond the rigid boundaries of our projections, we open the door to empathy and connection, acknowledging the humanity in others even when their perspectives challenge our own. This mutual recognition fosters dialogue over division, creating a foundation for relationships that are rooted in respect rather than animosity, and ultimately paving the way toward a more compassionate and cohesive society.
7. Withdrawing Projections while Sticking to Principle
The key is to begin to withdraw these projections while sticking to principles and remaining honest about the genuine good or harm that leaders and others are capable of. Recognizing a leader’s humanity doesn’t mean ignoring their impact—positive or negative—but rather seeing them as a complex person capable of both. By stepping back from our projections, we can allow space for a more nuanced understanding, where praise and criticism are rooted in their actions rather than our preconceived archetypes. This approach can help us engage with others in a way that’s both fair and honest, acknowledging the good and the harm without reducing them to a single role.
8. Learning from Shakespeare
Shakespeare can help us in this, as his works—especially Henry V—illuminate the complexities of human nature, often showing us the gray areas between good and evil, hero and villain. In Henry V, Shakespeare presents a king whose leadership is both inspiring and ruthless, compelling us to grapple with both his valor and his flaws. Through characters and narratives like these, Shakespeare invites us to see people in all their ambiguity and depth, reminding us of our shared humanity and the dangers of simplistic labels.
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Emma Smith is a distinguished Shakespeare scholar and Professor of Shakespeare Studies at Hertford College, University of Oxford. Her Approaching Shakespeare series looks at King Henry V, and asks whether his presentation in the play is entirely positive. A famous reading by the critic Norman Rabkin is Smith's starting point here: the drawing of a rabbit that looks like a duck (or vice versa). Rabkin says that's the analogy for Henry V (a topical play dating from 1599) and the vexed question of the play's attitude to its charismatic military hero. Looked at one way, Henry is indeed 'the mirror of all Christian kings'; looked at another he is a sinister and brutal politician. The play's interest for us, I think, is the effect of toggling between these two views.
Henry V by Emma Smith at http://podcasts.ox.ac.uk/ via http://writersinspire.org/content/henry-v. Published on 20 October 2010. Accessed on 03 November 2024.
Henry V by Emma Smith at http://podcasts.ox.ac.uk/ via http://writersinspire.org/content/henry-v. Published on 20 October 2010. Accessed on 03 November 2024.
Projecting Meaning Onto Leaders:
A Lesson from Shakespeare
Some admire him as the ideal warrior-king, a figure of strength and nationalism, while others critique him as an embodiment of the dark side of power and ambition. He’s the quintessential “duck-rabbit” figure, with interpretations diverging sharply depending on what one values or fears in a leader. You can't see him as both simultaneously. I am talking, of course, about Henry V in Shakespeare's play.
On one hand, Henry can certainly be admired for his qualities as a leader. Shakespeare presents him as charismatic, courageous, and capable of inspiring loyalty and bravery among his followers. His speeches, particularly the famous St. Crispin's Day speech before the Battle of Agincourt, showcase his ability to unify and embolden his troops, even when they are vastly outnumbered. He’s strategic, diplomatic, and willing to take risks—all traits that suggest a strong and effective leader.
However, there are aspects of Henry’s character and decisions that can make him less admirable when viewed through a different lens. His ruthlessness—such as his willingness to execute traitors and even order the killing of prisoners during the battle—can come across as harsh or morally ambiguous. His claim to the French throne, a central motive for the war in Henry V, is built on questionable grounds and leads to significant bloodshed. Additionally, his charm can feel manipulative, as seen in his wooing of Princess Catherine, where he switches from warrior to romantic almost performatively.
Shakespeare leaves Henry open to interpretation, allowing audiences and readers to grapple with these conflicting aspects without resolution.
It is difficult, nay impossible, for many to recognize that political figures can be “interpreted” in different ways, because we are convinced—intellectually and emotionally—that our view is the “right” interpretation. When we see someone like Henry V, or indeed any powerful leader, we want to categorize them as either hero or villain, noble or self-serving. The very idea that we are, in fact, interpreting this figure for our own purposes, however noble or ignoble, is deeply unsettling. It implies that we bring our own desires, fears, and beliefs to our understanding of them, and that this interpretation is not simply a discovery of truth but a reflection of ourselves.
This notion is threatening because it shifts responsibility onto us, suggesting that our views say as much about who we are as they do about the figure in question. To acknowledge that we are active participants in crafting our own interpretations destabilizes our sense of objectivity and forces us to confront the biases and motives that shape our perspectives. It means admitting that we may be clinging to an interpretation of a political figure not because it is definitively “true,” but because it aligns with the values, ideals, or anxieties we hold.
In this way, Shakespeare’s Henry V invites us not only to ponder the nature of leadership but to examine the way we ourselves project meaning onto leaders. We are compelled to question whether our admiration or disdain is truly about the figure or about something we seek in them—a justification, an aspiration, or even a fear. This introspective challenge lies at the heart of Shakespeare’s genius: he not only presents us with complex characters but also confronts us with our own complexities as we interpret them.
On one hand, Henry can certainly be admired for his qualities as a leader. Shakespeare presents him as charismatic, courageous, and capable of inspiring loyalty and bravery among his followers. His speeches, particularly the famous St. Crispin's Day speech before the Battle of Agincourt, showcase his ability to unify and embolden his troops, even when they are vastly outnumbered. He’s strategic, diplomatic, and willing to take risks—all traits that suggest a strong and effective leader.
However, there are aspects of Henry’s character and decisions that can make him less admirable when viewed through a different lens. His ruthlessness—such as his willingness to execute traitors and even order the killing of prisoners during the battle—can come across as harsh or morally ambiguous. His claim to the French throne, a central motive for the war in Henry V, is built on questionable grounds and leads to significant bloodshed. Additionally, his charm can feel manipulative, as seen in his wooing of Princess Catherine, where he switches from warrior to romantic almost performatively.
Shakespeare leaves Henry open to interpretation, allowing audiences and readers to grapple with these conflicting aspects without resolution.
It is difficult, nay impossible, for many to recognize that political figures can be “interpreted” in different ways, because we are convinced—intellectually and emotionally—that our view is the “right” interpretation. When we see someone like Henry V, or indeed any powerful leader, we want to categorize them as either hero or villain, noble or self-serving. The very idea that we are, in fact, interpreting this figure for our own purposes, however noble or ignoble, is deeply unsettling. It implies that we bring our own desires, fears, and beliefs to our understanding of them, and that this interpretation is not simply a discovery of truth but a reflection of ourselves.
This notion is threatening because it shifts responsibility onto us, suggesting that our views say as much about who we are as they do about the figure in question. To acknowledge that we are active participants in crafting our own interpretations destabilizes our sense of objectivity and forces us to confront the biases and motives that shape our perspectives. It means admitting that we may be clinging to an interpretation of a political figure not because it is definitively “true,” but because it aligns with the values, ideals, or anxieties we hold.
In this way, Shakespeare’s Henry V invites us not only to ponder the nature of leadership but to examine the way we ourselves project meaning onto leaders. We are compelled to question whether our admiration or disdain is truly about the figure or about something we seek in them—a justification, an aspiration, or even a fear. This introspective challenge lies at the heart of Shakespeare’s genius: he not only presents us with complex characters but also confronts us with our own complexities as we interpret them.
Open Source Shakespeare:
Henry V
Everything you want to know about Henry V by Shakespeare,
from George Mason University, Click here.
from George Mason University, Click here.