Eric Yang
Relationships between children and parents pervade the Star Wars saga, especially if we include surrogate parents. Anakin's relationship with his mother, Shmi, in the prequels impacts his trajectory toward the dark side. In The Mandalorian, Mando's role as a surrogate father to Grogu transforms them into a “Clan of Two.” But the most significant parent–child relationship in the saga may be the one between Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader.
When Luke rushes off to save his friends at Cloud City in The Empire Strikes Back, he's unprepared to find out that Darth Vader is his father. His training is nearly complete in the next film, but Yoda declares that Luke is not yet a Jedi until he confronts Vader. Even Obi‐Wan Kenobi advises Luke to kill Vader. Luke's reply – that he's unable to kill his own father – leads Obi‐Wan to lament, “Then the Emperor has already won.” Why would Luke go against his former master's advice? Is Luke being irrational in his commitment not to kill his father?
An odd thing happens next. Luke gives himself up to Vader on the moon of Endor. Luke's surrender may be hard to understand at first, but it makes good sense in light of the Confucian virtue of filial piety. Though Confucius (551–479 BCE) did not write anything, some of his sayings, actions, and interactions have been collected in the Analects. Confucius's teachings highlight the importance of benevolence, social order, and ritual propriety among other virtues and values. As we'll see, understanding Luke's surrender to Vader in terms of Confucian filial piety makes sense of how Luke is able to overcome the allure of the dark side and become a Jedi.
The wisdom tradition of Confucianism offers a philosophy aimed at living well. To live well, we have to cultivate the right kind of habits that make for a good life. Habits that help someone live in an excellent way are often referred to as “virtues.” Virtues are not qualities of individual actions but rather dispositions to act in ways that promote a person's flourishing. These habits of excellence are especially important because our lives are full of unexpected turns of events.
In Return of the Jedi (ROTJ), the Rebels experience this kind of unexpectedness. As the plot unfolds, Emperor Palpatine claims to have foreseen it all, saying that “everything that has transpired has done so according to my design.” But when Luke asks Yoda whether Vader is really his father, Yoda is surprised that Luke has learned this fact, replying, “Unexpected this is, and unfortunate.” Not even the greatest of the Jedi was able to expect this turn of events! More surprises await: when Luke is brought to the Emperor, he's astonished that Palpatine is aware of the Rebel mission on Endor and has set a trap for their fleet by leaking false information concerning the Death Star, which, he reveals, is fully operational.
Surprises can lead people into making poor decisions. To live well, we need to handle life's unexpected turns prudently. In Confucianism, flexibility is a key feature. Flexibility involves a fitting responsiveness to circumstances: the fitting response is what a good person would do if she were in a particular circumstance. The way to become a good person is to find exemplars – models of living a good life – and imitate them. We discover exemplars through the emotion of admiration.1 Indeed, Confucius's students admired and imitated him by carefully observing his speech and actions. Moral development is similar to the way people develop skills in other areas of life. Novice musicians admire skilled virtuosos, imitating the melodic phrases and style of their musical exemplars. Basketball players often imitate the dribbling and shooting form of their heroes. To become like your exemplar, you have to practice certain actions until those skills become deeply ingrained habits. These practices are the observance of ritual:
When it comes to the practice of ritual it is harmonious ease [i.e., flexibility] that is to be valued … If you merely stick rigidly to rituals in all matters, great and small, there will remain that which you cannot accomplish. Yet if you know enough to value harmonious ease but try to attain it without being regulated by the rites, this will not work either.2
Ritual involves repeated practice in moral, civic, and familial situations. But rituals cannot be followed mechanically. They must produce the kind of flexibility that makes it easier for someone to handle the unexpected twists and turns of life.
The right response to tough circumstances is not a random reaction. Confucian flexibility follows from habits to respond appropriately, which are required for a flourishing life. Achieving well‐being, however, requires several steps and, for Confucianism, the first step is filial piety: an abiding reverence, respect, and dedication to one's parents, even in adulthood. In the Analects, we see that such respect is the starting point for becoming a good person:
A young person who is filial and respectful of his elders rarely becomes the kind of person who is inclined to defy his superiors … The gentleman applies himself to the roots. “Once the roots are firmly established, the Way will grow.” Might we not say that filial piety and respect for elders constitute the root of Goodness?3
Filial piety is the foundation of a flourishing life. It's not concerned merely with outward behavior, otherwise there would be no difference between humans exhibiting this virtue and the behavior of “dogs and horses.”4 Rather, filial piety involves having the appropriate attitudes and dispositions toward one's parents. Some have claimed that this kind of respect is owed to parents because the very existence of children depends on their parents. But in Confucianism, biology has very little to do with it. Consider a person who, suffering from a debilitating disease, decides to become a parent only for the sake of having a potential organ donor match. This is not acting as a genuine parent should, which involves love and care for one's children.5 This parent's children would be right not to exhibit filial respect, whereas filial piety toward adoptive or surrogate parents (and in some cases, even teachers) can be appropriate, since such individuals provide proper care befitting a loving parent.
Why does Luke surrender himself to Vader? It is not because Anakin is biologically responsible for Luke's existence. Rather, Luke recognizes an inner conflict in Vader, something that Vader himself is not willing to admit. Luke senses that there's still good in him. Given that they are family and both are Jedi, it's no surprise that Luke would be privy to Vader's true feelings. Even when Vader no longer regards himself as Anakin Skywalker, declaring “That name no longer holds any meaning for me,” Luke senses the truth, countering that “It is the name of your true self, you've only forgotten. I know there is good in you; the Emperor hasn't driven it from you fully.”
If Vader had no care or concern for Luke, then perhaps filial piety would be inappropriate. While Vader attacks and tries to defeat Luke in obedience to Palpatine, Luke knows there's more to Vader. Even in their dialogue, Vader repeatedly calls Luke his “son.” Their connection is deeper than that between typical Jedi. In ROTJ, Palpatine does not sense Luke's presence on Endor, yet Darth Vader does. This appears to be more than merely the sensing of another Jedi but is instead based on their parental–filial connection. The good in Vader is manifest when he sacrifices his life to prevent Palpatine from killing Luke. If Vader has a paternal role in Luke's life, then it's appropriate for Luke to exhibit filial piety.
Confucius's Analects has a moral framework called “exemplarism.” This is the idea that moral knowledge and practice do not start with principles, rules, duties, consequences, or character traits. Instead, they are based on the example provided by good persons picked out through the emotion of admiration. Moral novices should imitate exemplars, acquiring the good traits possessed by the good person they admire. Parental figures typically serve as “ready‐made” exemplars since children typically admire their parents – if their parents exhibit noble and loving characteristics. Of course, parents aren't always perfect shining examples, and eventually children may move on, finding better exemplars like the sages in their community. Sometimes finding exemplars is difficult. Yet almost everyone has parents or parental surrogates who can serve in that role.6 It may even be possible to extend one's admiration and practice of imitation to fictional exemplars – imaginary good persons worth emulating.7
If this is right, then even an imagined representation of an estranged parent could serve as an exemplar. After Obi‐Wan tells Luke that his father was “a great pilot” who fought as a Jedi Knight in the Clone Wars and in whom the Force was strong, followed by giving him Anakin's lightsaber, Luke begins to regard his father as an exemplar. Anakin serves as a role model for Luke even though he'd been absent for all of Luke's life. Parental relationships can have a profound impact even when the parents aren't around. Even absent parents can be exemplars just as fictional exemplars might be. Clearly, Luke's admiration of his imagined father drives his desire to become a Jedi.
But there's a significant turning point in Luke's captivity on the second Death Star. When he's taken to Palpatine, Luke's surprise at the Emperor's trap for the Rebel fleet prompts anger that causes him to attempt to strike down Palpatine. Luke's feelings betray him: his rage almost overwhelms him, and he reveals his intense emotions for his twin sister, Leia. After Vader threatens to lure Leia to the dark side, Luke's powerful attack brings Vader to the verge of defeat, but the turning point is reached when he sees the weakness of his father, whose hand he just cut off. His anger mollified, Luke turns to Palpatine and proclaims, “You've failed, your highness. I am a Jedi, like my father before me.” With that recognition, Luke overcomes his anger and avoids journeying further to the dark side.
These crucial decisions and actions flow from Luke's character. His ability to avoid becoming Palpatine's apprentice arises from his attempts to cultivate virtues associated with the Jedi and through his training with Obi‐Wan and Yoda. But the “root” of this formation, as Confucius would have noted, is filial piety. Another way in which respect for parents can be understood as the root of other virtues is found in the charge that individuals live according to a particular tradition and learn the ways of that tradition. Parents can represent the traditions to which one belongs.8 Luke exhibits filial piety not only in his attitude toward Anakin, but also in his reverence for the Jedi way. While Luke has a rebellious spirit, like his father, even his imperfect commitment to following his masters Obi‐Wan and Yoda exhibits filial piety, developing within him the kind of character that allows him to resist Palpatine's schemes.
Jedi training is quite strict, but so is filial piety. According to the latter, a child can “never disobey.”9 This may seem rigid or harsh, but remember the aims of the moral formation of persons in Confucianism. It's not enough to obey rules and principles. Rather, it involves forming the right kinds of dispositions or character traits that enable a person to respond spontaneously to life's unexpected circumstances with flexibility or harmonious ease. And this spontaneity requires a lot of training. This is one reason why ritual in Confucianism is an integral part of moral formation. Ritual pervades virtually every facet of one's life, prescribing certain patterns of behavior pertaining to etiquette, conventional formalities, or informal gestures. These behaviors may not seem connected to living a moral life, but ritual can produce the ability to respond spontaneously in a way that is prudent and wise when facing a difficult, surprising situation. An analogy is found in sports, where many of the exercises seem irrelevant to the way the sport is actually played competitively. Coaches understand that these exercises strengthen muscles and develop important habits for when the competition is fierce. The training Luke receives from Yoda may at first appear pointless, and yet these rituals aid production of the right traits and abilities for living the Jedi way. Though Luke did not carry out his training perfectly, the process was instrumental in helping him overcome the temptation to join Palpatine. And his willingness to see it through is evidence of his filial piety for the parental figures and the Jedi tradition in his life. Luke's filial piety for Obi‐Wan, Yoda, and Anakin, as well as the Jedi tradition, shapes his character such that he can ultimately resist the temptation of the dark side.
In the end, Luke is vindicated in his judgment about Vader: Anakin Skywalker is still alive; there is still good in him. When Palpatine beats Luke down with Force lightning, Luke cries out, “Father, please!” Even at the brink of death with his father seemingly coldly staring at him, Luke believes there's good in Vader, which manifests when Vader risks death to rescue Luke. The final vindication comes as Luke tries to rescue the broken Vader to escape the Death Star. With Vader's helmet removed, seeing his son with his own eyes for the first time, Anakin utters his final words: “You were right about me; tell your sister, you were right.”
Luke's filial piety persists even after Vader's death. A reverence for parents, in the Confucian tradition, should be exhibited after their passing: “When someone's father is still alive, observe his intentions; after his father has passed away, observe his conduct. If for three years he does not alter the ways of his father, he may be called a filial son.”10 Burial rites are an important way to exhibit filial piety, since they continue to honor parents and bring order out of the disruption death may bring.11 To honor his father according to Jedi tradition, Luke takes Vader's body to Endor and builds a funeral pyre – in the same manner as Qui‐Gon Jinn's cremation in The Phantom Menace.
If we understand Luke's decisions and actions in light of Confucian filial piety, his choice to surrender himself is neither foolish nor imprudent. Filial piety makes sense when we reflect on Luke's journey into becoming a Jedi and achieving peace, knowledge, serenity, harmony, and eventually becoming one with the Force in The Last Jedi. No doubt other factors were crucial, including his friendships, but we must not overlook the ways in which filial piety is foundational for a good life, including the life of a Jedi.