In the beginning God created everything, blah, blah. And Adam and Eve lived in the garden of Eden forever. Happily ever after. The End.

There's no story at all without evil. So the question can only be about how evil is treated in the story. I haven't watched the series so I cannot comment in detail, but in principle, I would suggest that a move away from the strict rules of separation of heroes and villains, white hats and black hats, cowboys and Indians, is long overdue.

That the hero is the villain, that the road to hell is paved with good intentions, is nothing new in the world, but somewhat rare at least in US cinema tradition. So it's all in the treatment of characters, and the details of the message conveyed, that I don't know about.

But that we are the goodies and they are the baddies, is a dangerously complacent message that must surely encourage intolerance and divisiveness. Avoiding that message gets a preliminary in-principle thumbs-up from me. :up:

A man voluntarily chooses to spend his final days on earth destroying the lives of as many people as possible by getting them hooked on meth - what room for nuance is there in our judgement of such a person?

To suggest this man would be in any way an anti-hero there seems to be a missing link here.

The MC is conspicuously named Walter White, and considering this is an American series I'm sure there's a clumsy attempt at societal commentary in here somewhere that we're missing.

I would suggest that a move away from the strict rules of separation of heroes and villains, white hats and black hats, cowboys and Indians, is long overdue. — unenlightened

I agree with this, just as I agree that this isn't exactly news.

For example, in another well-known series, "Game of Thrones," each character does something morally reprehensible (at least according to our understanding of medieval and even modern morality). And for modern cinema, this is something of a quality mark. On the surface, this adds realism. The creators tell us, "You can't be a saint, we're all sinners," "the world is a complicated place," "not everything is so clear-cut." It looks cool.

But that's just on the surface. At its core, every such creation contains a metanarrative: "no one is responsible for evil deeds," "there is no justice," "you can do whatever you want, as long as you're careful."

Sin, bad deeds, immoral behavior seem to become the norm. There's no punishment, and if there is, it's later.

Here on the forum, topics about morality, ethics, and morality are very popular, focusing mainly on classic trolley problems and the like (I think everyone is familiar with these themes). But I'd like to talk about something else. After watching such films or TV series, it feels like morality has been completely sidelined in decision-making today.

That is, when solving a hypothetical trolley problem, a modern person doesn't ask themselves, "What should I do?" but rather, "Who witnessed my actions?", "Can I justify this action to the people I care about?", "Do I even have to justify myself to anyone?", "Which decision will be most beneficial to me, and not to someone else?"

That's where I see the problem. That's what I'd like to discuss.

The MC is conspicuously named Walter White, and considering this is an American series I'm sure there's a clumsy attempt at societal commentary in here somewhere that we're missing. — Tzeentch

I'm really curious if this was the creators' intention. Can you elaborate on your idea?

I'm really curious if this was the creators' intention. Can you elaborate on your idea? — Astorre

Eh, I'm just riffing, really. I don't know if it's there, though it wouldn't surprise me.

Walter as a stand-in for "dissatisfied middle-aged white man", with his terminal illness being a vessel to have him act out his ultimate power fantasy (which apparently is becoming a petty criminal).

It sounds just about bad enough to come from Hollywood, doesn't it? :lol:

The "moral purification" is referred to as "plot resolution" in cinema terms; it's clearly not promoting any of the destructive acts you describe in the show. The science in the show is bunk, and clearly this extreme performance would not actually happen...real life drug dealing is more of a slow-burn type of story.

As I noted above, this series is merely a successful illustration of the problems I would like to discuss:

1. The majority of screen time in such "masterpieces" is dedicated to the aestheticization and heroization of the sinner; the moral justification of atrocities.
2. The reckoning is presented as a "nod to the genre" or a payment for the right to glorify crime.
3. Punishment, even if inevitable, is perceived as the completion of the drama, as an atonement for all future sinners, and not as retribution.

I suggest we discuss this phenomenon if this topic resonates with you. — Astorre

I'm rewatching BB now, and I really don't see it this way. Walter's crime destroys his family and friends. At the end of the show, he is alone and miserable. In the moment the viewer cheers his victories, in the big-picture the show does not glorify Walt.

In Season 1, we're rooting for him, though. In S1, no one around him respects him. We cheer when he fights off the boys who are bullying Walt Jr. for his disability. We cheer those early victories where he puts assholes in their place and learns to stand up for himself. Over time, Walt turns less sympathetic, and by the time we hit season 5, Walt is a complete psychopath — but we've known him since S1 so it's a bit different than just turning on the screen and seeing a psycho.

So no, I don't see BB as glorifying crime upon reflection. If at the end of the show Walt lived in a giant mansion with all his friends and family, then yeah, I call it glorification. Walt's adventures are exciting and risky, but not ultimately good. In nearly all cases, financial success comes at the cost of family and friends.

EDIT: In the earlier seasons there's more of this in-the-moment glorification, for instance when Walt blows up Tuco's office. In season 5, it's much grittier, and you're likely terrified of Walt, e.g., when he coordinates the prison hit, it's conveyed in brutal detail. No one wants to be Walt in those later seasons.

- I think your thesis is generally correct. I don't know Breaking Bad, but another example commonly given is the way that the Batman nemesis Joker has now become his own offering, with standalone Joker characters and films that have no relation to Batman. Tolkien writes well about the phenomenon. I may try to dig up some quotes.

A man voluntarily chooses to spend his final days on earth destroying the lives of as many people as possible by getting them hooked on meth - what room for nuance is there in our judgement of such a person? — Tzeentch

He doesn't start off as a drug lord. He starts as a pathetic man who no one respects and has seemingly never stood up for himself, and is now faced with his own mortality, which is both terrifying and freeing. You cheer him on in the beginning.

I suggest we discuss this phenomenon if this topic resonates with you. — Astorre

A TV series is about emotion, pulling us into dilemmas and relationships that keep us guessing, speculating, and wanting more. The best ones show us something new and unexpected, exploring situations we hadn’t considered. In that sense, Breaking Bad, as a multi-layered, expectation-defying narrative, achieved exactly what it set out to do.

There are many possible explanations for Breaking Bad’s story choices. The main one, I think, is that 'bad guys' are simply more interesting to watch than 'good guys'. Good guys are dull, and television has spent decades telling anemic and improbable stories about heroes triumphing over villains.

By contrast the character arc of an ordinary person (like us) sinking deeper into questionable activities and behaviours, becoming trapped by his choices is just more compelling and inherently dramatic. Welsh actor Anthony Hopkins once described the show as a Shakespearean or Jacobean tragedy. This is not a new narrative convention (Macbeth, Richard III, Titus Andronicus).

That said, it’s not a show I particularly enjoyed, I never got past season three or four. I tend to lose patience with most long-form TV; I prefer stories that reach their conclusion in a tighter, more contained form.

Good Heavens!

Breaking Bad ended 12 years ago. Will we be learning that someone is appalled by The Sopranos next (it ended in 2007)?

The anti-hero has been a fixture in "modern cinema" for decades. A fixture in literature far longer. It's difficult to take such "what's wrong with people these days?" complaints seriously.

He starts as a pathetic man who no one respects and has seemingly never stood up for himself, and is now faced with his own mortality, which is both terrifying and freeing. — BitconnectCarlos

That's the crazy part.

He is freed, and with this freedom he chooses to turn himself into an even more pathetic man.

But it tells us something about the modern zeitgeist that we apparently feel that it's better to be a petty criminal who ruins lives for a living, than to be a father who works an honest job to support his disabled child.

I understand that this is the way the series is deliberately framed, and most people just go along with it without ever looking at the picture critically, but it's just so hopelessly confused I can't help but wonder what gives rise to media like this.

Breaking Bad ended 12 years ago. Will we be learning that someone is appalled by The Sopranos next (it ended in 2007)?

The anti-hero has been a fixture in "modern cinema" for decades. A fixture in literature far longer. It's difficult to take such "what's wrong with people these days?" complaints seriously. — Ciceronianus

As you may have read, this example is given as a vivid illustration. The topic I touched on concerns not the series but a cultural phenomenon.

I think your thesis is generally correct. I don't know Breaking Bad, but another example commonly given is the way that the Batman nemesis Joker has now become his own offering, with standalone Joker characters and films that have no relation to Batman. Tolkien writes well about the phenomenon. I may try to dig up some quotes. — Leontiskos

Yes. I wanted to mention Joker, too. It's truly a phenomenon. Just like "Perfume."

For me, the earliest such example was Nabokov with "Lolita." There you have it, page after page of aestheticization of pedophilia. A striking example of how, using literary talent, you can vividly and thoroughly describe the feelings of sick people. I didn't finish reading it at the time because I couldn't take it anymore after page 10.

But what a storm of emotion and criticism this work provoked at the time! If the author's goal was to make a name for himself, he achieved it.

A TV series is about emotion, pulling us into dilemmas and relationships that keep us guessing, speculating, and wanting more. The best ones show us something new and unexpected, exploring situations we hadn’t considered. In that sense, Breaking Bad, as a multi-layered, expectation-defying narrative, achieved exactly what it set out to do. — Tom Storm

The idea for this post arose from a conversation about a local TV series centered around the justice system: it meticulously depicts abuses of power by law enforcement officers, a judge masturbating under his robes, and bribes, bribes, bribes.

Of course, in the end, as the genre dictates, justice is restored, but again, it's not because of the officials' vices, but simply because of accidents or technical errors.

And I'm talking about a disconnect here. A kind of cultural fracture: you won't be punished for your vices, but for an accident you miscalculated. So, it doesn't matter how bad you are; what matters is how sensible and prudent you are.

And the second point. This series (produced by order of the government) also carries a hidden message: "This is how it is here, be prepared, know that this is how it is here." This seems to remove any questions or demands on the authorities, as represented by the average person. You may disagree, but you know what you're dealing with.

Many countries around the world ban smoking in films and on TV. By anyone, whether villains or heroes. Frankly, I approve of this. Although it is censorship. After all, by simply showing the undesirable behavior itself, you're essentially saying, "What's the big deal? Everyone does it."

For me, the earliest such example was Nabokov with "Lolita." There you have it, page after page of aestheticization of pedophilia. — Astorre

Thereby showing the emptiness and potential manipulativeness of aestheticization, since Humbert is not the author's mouthpiece.

I agree with you. In "Lolita," the aestheticization of evil (page after page of beautiful descriptions) doesn't lead to "redemption" or normalization, as in BB, but rather emphasizes its emptiness. But that was only the beginning of the genre.

:up:

faced with his own mortality, which is both terrifying and freeing..... — BitconnectCarlos

That would depend on whether there is karmic retribution, in which case one's mortality would not be freeing at all. A lot of modern culture is fundamentally nihilist - nothing matters in the end, right? We'll all end up dead. ( I didn't end up watching Breaking Bad, although it had a reputation as a cracking drama, and many other streamers I have watched are equally nihilistic in that sense).

And as you may have noted, my observation was that your concern over this "cultural phenomenon" is hackneyed.

The world has changed forever for me now.

So no, I don't see BB as glorifying crime upon reflection. — "BitconnectCarlos

Walt's adventures are exciting and risky, but not ultimately good. — BitconnectCarlos

:100: If anything, watching BB tells us that we wouldn't want to be like Walter White, even if we didn't care about the misery of producing a drug that ruins lives. These kinds of series present a picture of the antihero entering a kind of hell of life threatening entanglements, which just serves to reinforce why it is wrong even from a standpoint of pure self-interest. He puts those he loves in serious danger which is unforgivable.

Another weird one is Red Dead Redemption II. Arthur, protagonist, lives a life of impossible gang associated crime, one murder after another to acquire wealth, whether taking bounties or committing murder for a few bucks. We are complicit as the one playing, choosing honor or dishonor. By the end, no one in history could've committed such a long series of depraved acts and live to tell about it and yet we somehow have empathy for the guy as he comes around to realize his great mistake. There is some feeling of innocence about such characters, as if they are not self-created, but merely the condition of life's happenstance.

The tragedy, self-destruction of the antihero, perhaps with the realization of their mistake if they go do it all over is what makes the progression of such stories morally satisfying. To see them live happily ever after is what would make it more repugnant to our moral sensitivities.

And in the realm of feelings, in the deepest interpretations of this event by the viewer — Astorre

I'm really curious if this was the creators' intention. — Astorre

I agree with you. In "Lolita," the aestheticization of evil (page after page of beautiful descriptions) doesn't lead to "redemption" or normalization, as in BB, but rather emphasizes its emptiness. — Astorre

I actually majored in literature, but I never understood such formulations.

Speaking of the audience as "we", or how "a viewer" understands or interprets this or that. Or claims about the author's intention (without actually asking the author anything). Or what a text does or doesn't do.

Can you, for example, cite an actual passage from "Lolita" that emphasizes the emptiness of the aestheticization of evil?
And where is the "redemption" or normalization of evil in "Breaking Bad"? Can you quote an actual text from there to this effect?


I find that often, when people interpret a text, they often externalize their feelings and ideas in regard to the text, and assume a type of supremacy over the text and objectivity. As in, "This isn't just how I see the text, this is how it really is, this is what it really says." An often, they cannot actually support their interpretation with actual citations from the text.

In the end, so much of what counts for "reading literature" actually has to do with internalizing and strengthening a particular ideology and value system. The individual books or films etc. are just means for that.

For example, many books or films are characterized by critics and intellectuals as being "anti-war". And yet in the book itself, there may not be a single sentence to that effect. Yet culturally, we are often expected to read it that way.

After watching such films or TV series, it feels like morality has been completely sidelined in decision-making today. — Astorre

It's been an ongoing trend to demote morality to the domain of mere "feelings" or "emotions". Psychology has a lot to do with it, with its emphasis on "dealing with emotions". For such psychology, the problem isn't that you were wrongfully terminated from your job; it's that you feel sad or angry about it.

Perhaps @Count Timothy von Icarus can say something more about this.

A worthy critique and an interesting comment. You're bringing me back down to earth, saying that statements require empirical support. Moreover, the approach I used to interpret them may indicate a cognitive error—I could have easily imagined something and selected facts to support it.

Your criticism is valid.

At the same time, I'd like to justify myself a bit. The point is that, as I believe, art is, first and foremost, about feelings. In interpreting BB, in this case, I've applied a new lens. That is, I've proposed not an accumulation of empirical data about the phenomenon, but a rethinking of its very foundation. Is this speculative? Perhaps. But that's also a way of philosophizing.

Returning to the comment itself—you criticize the lack of empiricism in your statements. But my statement is at the level of rethinking the idea of ​​interpretation. Is this prohibited?

I had a thread on this a while back, although the essay it focused on had some serious issues with trying to cram the issue into a Marxist framing (which works for some aspects, but not for others)

You raise an interesting question because not every "drug lord" story, much less every story that fetishizes evil, ends up with a "just" ending. Some end with the anti-hero being successful (e.g., Hannibal, Peaky Blinders). Hence, I don't really think "atonement" is the general emphasis here. I think it has more to do with the celebration of the "unconquerable will" and the freedom embodied in criminal transgression.

Hence, I still agree with you 100% here:

reason is the power that allows you to spit on everyone (the law, morality, society, the state, stupid gangsters with automatics); only chance can still oppose him. — Astorre

Exactly. And it is an instrumentalized reason that allows one to do this. The question of what reason says one ought to do is often deferred, sometimes indefinitely, although as you note, sometimes there is a redemptive "crisis point," as when Walter has to save Jesse.

Anyhow, I think such endings often play more of a role of showing how the character has ultimately decided to brave "real stakes and dangers," as well as providing a sort of convenient plot element for closing a series/film with pathos, rather than any sort of moral lesson (i.e., "crime doesn't pay"). Redemption is sometimes in the mix (Pulp Fiction... sort of), but not always (e.g., not in Scarface or Goodfellas really). Either way, the anti-hero who dies or is finally imprisoned is often presented like Icarus. They flew too close to the sun, but we can also say "at least they flew! At least they tried!"

Also, it's sort of a trope in some modernist literature and literary analysis that it is precisely the inevitability of defeat, and the impossibility of "total victory" that lends "struggle" its meaning, and this often seems to be part of the idea as well. (You even see this reading of Homer too, although I take it that the key insight Homer gives us is actually that even immortality cannot make the meaningless meaningful, not that finitude grants meaning to the otherwise meaningless).

For example, in another well-known series, "Game of Thrones," each character does something morally reprehensible (at least according to our understanding of medieval and even modern morality). And for modern cinema, this is something of a quality mark. On the surface, this adds realism. The creators tell us, "You can't be a saint, we're all sinners," "the world is a complicated place," "not everything is so clear-cut." It looks cool. — Astorre

Right, sometimes you'll see the claim that "morally grey" characters are a helpful addition to modern art. I don't think this is quite right. Aeneas is morally grey and ultimately fails to live up to the principles he is supposed to embody. David is morally grey; he commits adultery and then covers it up with murder and is condemned by the prophet Nathan. I think the real difference is a sort of perspectivism that justifies such characters. The David Story (Samuel - early I Kings) is incredibly rich, but it doesn't ask us to see the Bathsheba incident in a way that "justifies David in his own eyes."

Well, there is good and bad here. No doubt, the modern novel has led to psychological portraits with more depth. I think a problem though is that perspectivism as a narrative tool can often bleed into perspectivism as a sort of philosophy (and this is bad when it is not intentional, but something an author or audience feels they cannot avoid). The way this tends to play out IMHO is that authors need to keep conjuring up ever more wicked and sadistic villains in order to project some semblance of moral order onto their plots (certainly something you see in A Game of Thrones).The irony here is that the need to introduce super sadistic, over the top evil villains ends up sort of bowdlerizing the plot in the same way a more sanitized story would.




And yet people ultimately do end up idolizing him, although perhaps not quite as much as Tony Montana (Scarface), Thomas Shelby (The Peaky Blinders), etc. The drug lord anti-hero is a sort of trope at this point.

You make a very important point; Walter is a relatable, but also somewhat pathetic figure. Weeds had a somewhat similar thread with a "single mom turned crime lord." Walter, through ambition and a shedding of social niceties, transcends this pathetic, "beta male" mentality and moves into a space of limitless ambition, or as he puts it, the pursuit of "empire." I think this goes along with our society's fetishization of acquisitiveness (pleonexia is now pretty much a virtue instead of a vice, we are to never be satisfied, always striving for more, maintaining our grindset mindset, etc.). Yet at a deeper level I think this has to do with the fear in our culture, particularly among men, of degenerating into a bovine consumer, a castrated subhuman who no longer receives or deserves recognition (thymos). This thread in modern life was aptly diagnosed by Fukuyama in The End of History and the Last Man for instance . Yet, whatever else the drug lord is, they aren't one of Nietzsche's "Last Men." Walter's story is partially the tale of a man transcending Last Manhood through crime. The point isn't so much the crime, as this transcending motion.

But this also intersects with the particularly capitalist elevation of fortitude when wed to ambition and acquisitiveness. Mark Fisher gets at part of this when he analyzes the notion of "keeping it real" in gangster rap culture. To "keep it real" is to cease being a dupe and beta, to no longer pretend that the old morality of piety, temperance, humility, etc. has any real purchase. It is to be "real" in precisely the way liberalism says man *really* is, i.e., as an atomized self-interested utility maximizer driven on by irrational bodily and thymotic appetites. This is all anyone *really* ever was; the "old morality" was variously a duplicitous trick played on the masses by the elites, and the clergy's own twisted will to power coming out in the will to dominate themselves and others through religion. Walter White and other similar characters shed their connection to custom and desire for safety, and so overcome mediocrity and the omnipresent ill of bourgeois boredom and self-hatred.

You can see this in the cut throat competition of "reality TV" as well. They often seem to try to cast people who will gladly play up the "win at all cost" psychopath role.

I don't know Breaking Bad, but another example commonly given is the way that the Batman nemesis Joker has now become his own offering, with standalone Joker characters and films that have no relation to Batman. Tolkien writes well about the phenomenon. I may try to dig up some quotes. — Leontiskos

Yes, but I think the Joker, Tyler Durden of Fight Club, and other similar characters play to a slightly different ethos. The Joker burns all the money he receives in the Dark Knight. He isn't pursuing meglothymia through a sort of "capitalism by other means," but is turning against society itself (often to point out its own fraudulence). He is beyond the need for recognition. There is a bit of "divine madness" there ("holy fools" also shunned custom to engage in social commentary, although obviously in a very different way). I think these sorts of characters are extremely relevant to the appeal of "trolling" mentioned in the other thread on that topic.

For instance, when the Joker gives two boats, one full of regular citizens, one full of prisoners, the power to blow each other up in the Dark Knight, and then threatens to kill everyone if one side won't murder the other, the whole point is that he is exposing the "real" human being that lies beneath the niceties of the "old morality" (or something like that).

Hannibal Lecter is also a good example here because his total shedding of custom and ability to endure suffering turn him into a superhuman of sorts.

Unfortunately, R. Scott Bakker's work isn't that popular (which I sort of get, he isn't for everyone) and I think only @180Proof has read him here, but he is (perhaps unintentionally) a great example here. He is an eliminativist who has a fairly negative view of humanity, and he engages in a trope across his books where there will be a sort of anti-hero/villain character who becomes superhuman through recognizing and accepting the truth of eliminativism and mechanism, and then using this insight to manipulate others (and to manipulate himself through technology and technique). The idea is that, if one realizes that custom is ultimately groundless, it can become just another tool for mastery. Likewise, the body and soul become tools. Everything can be instrumentalized and bent towards the achievement of one's goals; and wed to a potent enough intellect, this combination is unbeatable.

But Bakker is very interesting because, despite this seeming voluntarism (a voluntarism that emerges from his prizing of intellect, but an intellect reduced to a tool), he has in some ways a more ancient, and thick, notion of freedom as involving self-mastery, self-government, and self-knowledge. I suppose Hannibal partially embodies these traits too, although in a way that isn't as fully thought out.

The problem though is that, as these notions are taken to their limit, and you get characters that are ever more superhuman in intellect, cunning, self-control, etc., and ever more beyond/above all custom and morality, they actually start to become incoherent, because there is no reason why someone, so liberated, should want to do one thing instead of any other. Realistically, they might as well decide to sit down until they expire from exposure. This can happen with the Joker in some forms too, which is why he needs his insanity to keep him moving.

Nussbaum talks about something somewhat similar re the ways in which athletic competition would cease to be meaningful, rewarding, or interesting if man transcended his physical limitations to a large enough degree. It's a keen diagnosis, although I am not sure if the solution quite hits its mark. It does not seem necessarily problematic for man to transcend some elements of his being, such that his past desires seem trivial; this is only problematic if there is not a parallel deeping of higher desires (which is exactly what the Platonists and Christians say there is, and attest to this experience, so the criticism fails to be decisive even in its own terms).

Yet, whatever else the drug lord is, they aren't one of Nietzsche's "Last Men." Walter's story is partially the tale of a man transcending Last Manhood through crime. The point isn't so much the crime, as this transcending motion. — Count Timothy von Icarus

Drug lords might be showing the raw potential for 'active nihilism' and breaking bad (from the herd), but without self-mastery or higher vision, they're reacting rather than creating.

Yes, but I think the Joker, Tyler Durden of Fight Club, and other similar characters play to a slightly different ethos. The Joker burns all the money he receives in the Dark Knight. He isn't pursuing meglothymia through a sort of "capitalism by other means," but is turning against society itself (often to point out its own fraudulence). He is beyond the need for recognition. There is a bit of "divine madness" there ("holy fools" also shunned custom to engage in social commentary, although obviously in a very different way). I think these sorts of characters are extremely relevant to the appeal of "trolling" mentioned in the other thread on that topic.

For instance, when the Joker gives two boats, one full of regular citizens, one full of prisoners, the power to blow each other up in the Dark Knight, and then threatens to kill everyone if one side won't murder the other, the whole point is that he is exposing the "real" human being that lies beneath the niceties of the "old morality" (or something like that).

Hannibal Lecter is also a good example here because his total shedding of custom and ability to endure suffering turn him into a superhuman of sorts. — Count Timothy von Icarus

Sure, and the interesting question arises: If evil is privative, why does our culture find it so fascinating? Presumably value is being found in the distortion that is evil because one sympathizes in various ways, or because one has experienced the same desire for overreacting.

The idea for this post arose from a conversation about a local TV series centered around the justice system: it meticulously depicts abuses of power by law enforcement officers, a judge masturbating under his robes, and bribes, bribes, bribes.

Of course, in the end, as the genre dictates, justice is restored, but again, it's not because of the officials' vices, but simply because of accidents or technical errors.

And I'm talking about a disconnect here. A kind of cultural fracture: you won't be punished for your vices, but for an accident you miscalculated. So, it doesn't matter how bad you are; what matters is how sensible and prudent you are. — Astorre

Are you simply saying that some stories explore complex moral problems and that the outcomes are unsatisfying from your moral perspective?

1. The majority of screen time in such "masterpieces" is dedicated to the aestheticization and heroization of the sinner; the moral justification of atrocities.
2. The reckoning is presented as a "nod to the genre" or a payment for the right to glorify crime.
3. Punishment, even if inevitable, is perceived as the completion of the drama, as an atonement for all future sinners, and not as retribution. — Astorre

Isn’t Breaking Bad kind of old-fashioned storytelling? Crime doesn't pay. In real life, the “bad guy” might well succeed with little cost to themselves or their families. And sometimes they even become president.

You’ve identified ideas like retribution and the moral justification of atrocities. Wasn’t Breaking Bad really about a man who made a moral choice that led him to a point of no return and the loss of everything? To me it was a more nuanced way to provide a standard “say no to drugs” and “don’t commit crime” message.

From an aesthetic or dramatic perspective, the show plays off a “fish out of water” story, where desperate situations lead to desperate choices and profound personal transformations. People find these matters compelling viewing.

Here’s my question for you: should Breaking Bad have been made, or is it glamorising immoral behavior?

The tragedy, self-destruction of the antihero, perhaps with the realization of their mistake if they go do it all over is what makes the progression of such stories morally satisfying. To see them live happily ever after is what would make it more repugnant to our moral sensitivities. — Nils Loc

That prompted me to think of Scarface. Tony has a code which has him look like a victim of his conscience in one place but the agent of his demise when betraying innocence in other places. It is like the magical protection Macbeth believes in.

W White is more like a Faust who becomes more aware of the exchange he has made as time goes by and is without illusion at the end.

But as you say, a morality play.

I had a thread on this a while back, although the essay it focused on had some serious issues with trying to cram the issue into a Marxist framing (which works for some aspects, but not for others) — Count Timothy von Icarus

A very interesting essay that covers the same issues that I tried to cover here in a much deeper and more subtle way.

Yes, but I think the Joker, Tyler Durden of Fight Club, and other similar characters play to a slightly different ethos. The Joker burns all the money he receives in the Dark Knight. He isn't pursuing meglothymia through a sort of "capitalism by other means," but is turning against society itself (often to point out its own fraudulence). He is beyond the need for recognition. There is a bit of "divine madness" there ("holy fools" also shunned custom to engage in social commentary, although obviously in a very different way). I think these sorts of characters are extremely relevant to the appeal of "trolling" mentioned in the other thread on that topic. — Count Timothy von Icarus

I think you won't disagree that the Joker from "The Dark Knight" and the Joker from "Joker" are completely different stories. The first Joker is a villain who demonstratively tries to expose the true nature of modern society, while the second is simply a mentally ill and misunderstood character who decides to do what he wants.

The problem though is that, as these notions are taken to their limit, and you get characters that are ever more superhuman in intellect, cunning, self-control, etc., and ever more beyond/above all custom and morality, they actually start to become incoherent, because there is no reason why someone, so liberated, should want to do one thing instead of any other. Realistically, they might as well decide to sit down until they expire from exposure. This can happen with the Joker in some forms too, which is why he needs his insanity to keep him moving. — Count Timothy von Icarus

So, it turns out that there's no (or we don't know) ontological justification for such behavior, making it impossible? If I understand you correctly, that's an intriguing idea.

Essentially, in your essay, as I noted above, you've already identified all the problems I'd like to address. The only layer I could add (and it's, of course, the most speculative) is the question: what if the "engineers of our world (state; society)" are deliberately using the techniques we've discussed to aestheticize evil for their own purposes?

Isn’t Breaking Bad kind of old-fashioned storytelling? Crime doesn't pay. In real life, the “bad guy” might well succeed with little cost to themselves or their families. And sometimes they even become president. — Tom Storm

Don't you think this has become the norm for us today? Success is already the highest good. In pursuing success, sacrifices can be made, as long as they are acceptable. This is called "collateral damage." For many contemporaries, this has evolved into a willingness to do any dirty work, as long as it is paid fairly.

Here’s my question for you: should Breaking Bad have been made, or is it glamorising immoral behavior? — Tom Storm

Not at all. Here, in the past, and in the future, I'm not trying to moralize. I'm not trying to teach the right way, but rather to examine phenomena through different lenses and test whether these methods work.

Don't you think this has become the norm for us today? Success is already the highest good. In pursuing success, sacrifices can be made, as long as they are acceptable. This is called "collateral damage." For many contemporaries, this has evolved into a willingness to do any dirty work, as long as it is paid fairly. — Astorre

No. I think it is important to separate entertainment from what most people do.

I'm afraid that this is true only for a small part of society capable of self-reflection.