Previously, I discussed the trope of heroes risking it all, and why I think it’s a bad moral value.  Now I want to discuss some case studies. I feel a bit embarrassed to talk about my examples, because arguably, if we want to talk about risky heroics we should be talking about popular movies. But I don’t watch those, and am unwilling to put up with one for a blog post. So instead you’re getting a couple obscure moments that happened to come to mind.

1. Yasna’s choice

The Invincible is a game based on Stanislaw Lem’s sci-fi novel of the same name, although it contains an original story that merely echoes the original novel. It follows Yasna, a scientist who is stranded on the planet Regis III, where she witnesses a series of strange events. (I think it is a decent game, if you like narrative walking sims like Firewatch, but I’m not here to offer a review.)

Most of the game consists of hiking through dusty alien terrain. For me, the wilderness hiking engages some of my scouting instinct. I become mildly annoyed that the whole venture is as slipshod as it is. They should be more cautious and prepared. Yasna should secure her own safety before trying to save everyone else. But you know, whatever. It’s an adventure story, that’s how these things go.

The game involves a few choices, and one involves another astronaut, Gorsky. Yasna encounters him unconscious, without any oxygen. The atmosphere on Regis III is breathable, but toxic to breathe for an extended period of time. Yasna wants to give Gorsky some of her own oxygen. The astrogator (talking to her from the spaceship) orders Yasna not to, because it would be a disaster if she ran out oxygen. But it’s ultimately up to the player.

This is a classic hero’s choice, where the hero can take a personal risk for the possibility to save someone else. It’s not really clear how much of a risk Yasna is taking, nor is it clear whether she’s really saving Gorsky (since he might survive or die either way). There are some possible worlds where the risk calculations are in Gorsky’s favor, and others where they are not. We can’t say, but I was very interested in this opportunity to decline the hero’s choice. I wanted to see where the story would take that.

Unsurprisingly, the story doesn’t do much with it. Gorsky just dies off-screen. And I later read that under certain conditions, giving Gorsky oxygen will save him.

But I find this an interesting case study of the implications of the “choices matter” story structure. In a traditional story, only a single sequence of events is shown, and we cannot see what would have happened if the hero made a different choice. But in a game that offers the player a choice, it must show multiple possible sequences of events. Therefore, it must show not just an outcome, but a causal chain leading to that outcome. And since “choices matter” narrative games are typically deterministic, it doesn’t leave room for probability or uncertainty. So the result is a flattened set of choices and consequences. If you choose A, then B. If you choose X, then Y. Within this structure, what can you even do with a hero’s choice?

I would say The Invincible is not particularly interested in exploring the hero’s choice as a concept, it’s only interested in deploying a well-worn trope. So all the story does, is let Gorsky live if you give him oxygen, let him die if you don’t. Also, there’s achievement if you save him. That’s all there is to it–even though it’s not realistic.

2. Red’s objection

Gunnerkrigg Court is a long running webcomic about a magic school where mythological creatures walk among us. It’s basically the greatest of all time, but I’m not here to review it. This discussion is not spoiler heavy, but discusses a plot point from Chapter 61.

Over the course of the story, the characters discover a ghost who has been trapped at the bottom of a chasm. The ghost is extremely dangerous, but they want to release her from her torment. After a great deal of planning and teamwork, they finally succeed.

However, afterwards, a minor character named Red regrets the operation. She feels it was extremely risky, and her friend nearly got killed. She blames the protagonist Annie for putting them in danger for little good reason. So… she asks Annie to never speak to her again.

Red isn’t correct exactly, but she kind of has a point. Annie’s plan to release the ghost was not based on sheer heroic risk, but rather long-term testing and planning. And yet, she was still taking a huge amount of risk, not just to her, but to the others in her party. And Red, at least, apparently did not understand the risks going in. Gunnerkrigg Court is not trying to show Annie as being in the wrong, but it is entirely reasonable for another character to object to her decisions!

I love this because in a typical heroic narrative, the hero is simply correct for taking the risky choice, and the story will tolerate no criticism. But in Gunnerkrigg Court, Red’s objection is compellingly presented, fully motivated by her relationships and personality. There is plenty of room for subjective agreement with Red, or at least understanding where she is coming from.

Perhaps stories need heroes doing risky things. Risk is, after all, a source of tension. But if they must, I’d like to see more stories like this one, where other characters express reasonable objections.