The Folly of Demandingness in J.R.R.Tolkien’s World
In this series I am comparing the themes in the writings of J.R.R.Tolkien to elements of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (specifically a form of CBT know as Rational Emotive Behavior Therapy, or REBT). So far, I have summarized the REBT approach which says that it is our beliefs about what happens to us that determines our emotional reactions. I have argued that Tolkien’s Catholic-inspired theology would be compatible with the ancient Stoic philosophy that inspired CBT. I have argued that Tolkien’s emphasis on language as a conveyance for deep levels of meaning is compatible with CBT’s idea that changes to verbally mediated beliefs are the best way to modify our emotional experience. I also cited several examples of the power of language in Tolkien’s world, including the argument that Gandalf’s role is to import wisdom to change the way the denizens of Middle-earth think. Gandalf, in other words functions as a Cognitive Therapist.
In this second article, I will begin to explore the specific connections between the themes of Tolkien’s writings and those of the irrational thinking styles proposed by REBT. Specifically, I’ll be addressing the first of REBT’s four irrational belief styles—demandingness. Then I will show how these beliefs styles are prevalent in Tolkien’s work.
The Four Irrational Belief Styles.
Proponents of Rational Emotive Behavior Therapy argue that when we are confronted with adversity, we can interpret the situation using rational or irrational beliefs. If we respond with rational beliefs, we will experience healthy emotions (for example, concern, sadness, healthy anger). Rational beliefs are flexible. Irrational beliefs by contrast are rigid and will produce unhealthy emotions (Such as anxiety, depression, and unhealthy anger). REBT therapists have identified four primary irrational beliefs: Demandingness, Condemnation, Frustration Intolerance and Awfulizing. Let’s now review the first of belief style: Demandingness.
Demandingness
In Demandingness you assert that a situation (such as a person’s characteristics or behavior) is obligated to be what you want it to be (usually something other than it actually is) and anything else is absolutely inconceivable or intolerable. It is as if in the moment of this belief we believe that we can change the nature of reality with our will alone and our self, others, and the world are compelled to obey. Such beliefs go beyond a preference, attempt, request, or acknowledging that something is better than something else. Demands represent our mind’s attempt to inflict our will onto what is outside of our control.
Sometimes Demandingness arises out of rigid standards we have for ourselves or others. Of course, having a standard that you aspire to, or a helpful “rule of thumb” can be healthy, but not if it becomes something that you absolutely “must do—or else!” Rigid standards lead to perfectionism, burn out, and ultimately depression.
We see Demandingness most clearly in Tolkien’s writing when characters attempt to exert their will over the plan of Ilúvatar (Tolkien’s stand in for the creator). For example, Melkor, the foremost of the Ainur (the angelic-like beings that sing the world into existence) seeks to exert his own influence on the world as it comes to be. Melkor does so in a spirit of pride and defiance—as if his will can predominate that of Ilúvatar’s and the other Ainur.
“Then Ilúvatar spoke, and he said: 'Mighty are the Ainur, and mightiest among them is Melkor; but that he may know, and all the Ainur, that I am Ilúvatar, those things that ye have sung, I will show them forth, that ye may see what ye have done. And thou, Melkor, shalt see that no theme may be played that hath not its uttermost source in me, nor can any alter the music in my despite. For he that attempteth this shall prove but mine instrument in the devising of things more wonderful, which he himself hath not imagined.”
-From The Silmarillion, The Ainulindalë
In Tolkien’s universe, this is the first and perhaps greatest smackdown. Ilúvatar’s point is the Melkor’s will cannot prevail over the reality that has been set in motion, and even though he may yet try, it shall all serve a greater plan that shall not be in accord with Melkor’s desings. Here we see Tolkien’s stance on demandingness spelled out clearly. Demandingness is futile, even for Melkor whose power and strength is greate among the Ainur who are themselves godlike. How much more unwise then is demandingness for us mere mortals?
Even Melkor’s willful demandingness, we are told, will serve to bring about Ilúvatar’s, plan but in the material universe it leads to disaster. All of the strife and bloodshed that follows as Middle-earth’s history unfolds stems from this initial defiance—the belief on the part of Melkor that the world of Arda must be what he wants it to be and that the future races of men and elves should be subservient to him. Melkor later steals the three jewels known as the Silmarils, which are the most precious and sacred objects in Tolkien’s legendarium.
It is Fëanor, the creator of these marvels that serves as Tolkien’s next exemplar of the destructive power of demandingness. When this most masterful elves realizes that Melkor (who he renames Morgoth—the black foe of the world) has stolen the Silmarils he extracts the following oath from his seven sons:
“Be he foe or friend, be he foul or clean,
brood of Morgoth or bright Vala,
Elda or Maia or Aftercomer,
Man yet unborn upon Middle-earth,
neither law, nor love, nor league of swords,
dread nor danger, not Doom itself,
shall defend him from Fëanor, and Fëanor's kin,
whoso hideth or hoardeth, or in hand taketh,
finding keepeth or afar casteth
a Silmaril. This swear we all:
death we will deal him ere Day's ending,
woe unto world's end! Our word hear thou,
Eru Allfather! To the everlasting
Darkness doom us if our deed faileth.
On the holy mountain hear in witness…”-There are actually several versions of the Oath. This on is from Morgoth's Ring, History of Middle-Earth Vol 10, Part 2, The Annals of Aman. It is the longest and most poetic.
This is, in Tolkien’s universe the ultimate demandingness exhibited by elf, man or dwarf. Centuries of bloodshed, kin slaying, and tragedy follow from Fëanor’s oath. It is a kind of sin in Tolkien’s view to have a willfulness over the fate of the world. Looking at the words of this oath we can see exactly where the demandingness comes it: “not Doom itself” seems to be tipping point between heroism and madness. Here, doom is not being used as it is commonly used today—as a kind of foretold destruction. For Tolkien, ‘doom’ doesn’t have a clearly negative connotation, but rather it is a prophecy and a fate. Tolkien’s doom is more akin to destiny. So, when Fëanor says that not even destiny will keep the Silmarils from him (or his kin) he is blaspheming the will of Ilúvatar.
As the history of Arda unfolds we see demandingness playing a major role. Demandingness brings about the fall of Númenor in the belief of the Númenóreans that they should and must have the eternal life the elves. The One Ring itself seems to be the embodiment of Sauron’s own demandingness. The very presence of the ring seems to create or enhance demandingness in the beliefs of others. This demandingness seems to drive all the destruction caused by the ring. We see demandingness in Isildur’s insistence on keeping the ring. The unfortunate Déagol must give Sméagol the ring “because he wants it.” Gollum must have and keep his precious. Similarly, Boromir must use the power of the ring to save Gondor (“It is not yours save by unhappy chance. It might have been mine. It should be mine. Give it to me!” [emphasis mine]). Frodo experiences the demandingness of the ring as the urge to put it on at several key moments. Finally, we can presume that the demandingness to avoid the inevitability of death had something to do with the “nine mortal men” accepting their rings and become ring wraiths.
One final key example is in that of Denethor. I will have much more to say about Denethor when it comes to the discussion of despair. But despair is born out of demandingness— Denethor is swallowed by hopelessness because he cannot have what he demands. What he wants may be best described in the following passage (which is adeptly examined in Tom Shippey’s Road to Middle Earth; p.172):
“I would have things as they were in all the days of my life . . . and in the days of my longfathers before me: to be the Lord of this City in peace, and leave my chair to a son after me, who would be his own master and no wizard’s pupil. But if doom denies this to me, then I will have naught: neither life diminished, nor love halved, nor honour abated.”
—From the Return of the King.
It would be healthy for Denethor to strongly prefer to have these things—even to do all in his power to try to bring them about. But he crosses a line when he says that if he cannot have them, “then I will have naught.” He is unwilling to accept the disadvantages and losses that come from a life lived in a world beyond his control. But all our lives must be lived in such ad world, and therefore we all will be diminished in time. It falls to us find a way to live in a world where the love of others and the honor we are granted are beyond our ability to control. There is a line where heroic efforts to “put things right” end and the madness begins. Tolkien’s works show us that we must stop before we are willing to say: I need it to be the way I want it, or ‘I will have naught’ and ‘not doom itself’ will deny me.
In the next installment in this series, I will discuss the rational alternative to demandingness according to REBT: Flexible Thinking (named so to emphasize that Demandingness is rigid and inflexible). I’ll also discuss the ways that Tolkien’s heroes model this in their words and deeds
M.J.Miello is a psychologist and writer. His love for Tolkien has led to his creating Tolkienesque, a fiction novella about a real-world village that has more than a few things in common with Middle-earth. Read more about his writing at MJMiello.com.