From Middle-earth to Westeros: How fall shows build worlds – and bridges

In 2022, the biggest-budget shows on the small screen engage in what’s termed “world building.” 

These sci-fi and fantasy programs are escapist entertainment, but only up to a point. It’s hard to avoid drawing parallels between world-building narratives and modern-day issues. 

Whether it’s Elves pitted against Dwarves in Middle-earth (Amazon’s “The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power,” debuting Sept. 1, rated TV-14), rival houses vying for power in Westeros (HBO’s “Game of Thrones” prequel “House of the Dragon,” premiering Aug. 21, rated TV-MA), or the United Federation of Planets’ racist attitude toward Romulans (Paramount+’s “Star Trek: Picard,” final season due in 2023), these tales often reflect tribalism in the real world. 

It’s a recognition that an “us versus them” instinct has beset humankind since, well, forever. Yet these adventures also offer timeless ideals. Archetypal heroes illustrate the leadership qualities that can ameliorate polarization and develop unity and cooperation.

“The mandate when you’re telling stories is to find something where there’s some tension,” says Daniel Abraham, co-author of “The Expanse” novels that were adapted into a recent Amazon series (for ages 16-plus). “The thing that epic fantasy and science fiction lend themselves to on this kind of scale is there’s a largeness to the stories. They’re well built for telling stories about clashes between cultures and nations.”

In “The Expanse,” the solar system is divided into three warring factions: the people of Earth, those who have colonized Mars, and Belters, who mine asteroids in deep space. The miners are an exploited caste, recognizable by their tall and thin physiology because they live in a low-gravity environment. They speak a language called Belter Creole. At its core, “The Expanse” is a critique of racism and tribalism. The difference between the heroes and villains is a narrow versus expansive view of humanity. 

“One of those two people says, ‘I want world peace and I’m going to try to build consensus among world leaders that allows us to negotiate our problems,’” says Ty Franck, the other author of “The Expanse” books, which are published under the joint pen name James S.A. Corey. “And the other one says, ‘I’m going to get world peace by killing everybody who doesn’t belong to my tribe.’” 

Although “The Expanse” seems to reflect our current milieu, its authors primarily drew inspiration from the pre-classical era in which tyrants ruled city-states. They note that history tends to repeat itself. For that reason, viewers read contemporary politics into fantastical genres.  

When “Game of Thrones” – based on a series written by George R.R. Martin – was on air, Ñusta Carranza Ko noticed that her students in the School of Public and International Affairs at the University of Baltimore regularly referenced the show’s tribal politics in classes. “It reminds me of Thomas Hobbes’ great notion of group egoism,” says Ms. Ko, who co-wrote the book “Game of Thrones and Theories of International Relations” with Laura Young, political science and international studies department chair at Georgia Gwinnett College. “That kind of notion of our group, and our interests versus that of others, gets interfaced multiple times in the ‘Game of Thrones.’”

A common trope in fantastical stories such as “The Expanse” and “Game of Thrones” is that individuals from disparate groups have to learn to see beyond narrow interests based on group identity. They’re compelled to do so by an existential threat that threatens all of them. 

For instance, in Amazon’s latest Tolkien adaptation, the Elf Galadriel leads a fellowship consisting of representatives of various Middle-earth factions. Dwarves, Elves, Men, and Harfoots (precursors to Hobbits, who share a similar disdain for footwear) unite in a quest to combat the evil Sauron. 

The plot seems consonant with themes that Mr. Tolkien elucidated in “The Lord of the Rings.” As individuals overcome their personal prejudices about others, it represents the overcoming of tribalism.

Those who study conflict resolution have observed that when individuals from competing camps unite to solve a common problem, it helps create a new shared identity. “[Mr. Tolkien’s] really exploring two different aspects of humanity. He’s trying to explore what our individual self is and what we can do heroically as individuals. But he’s also trying to fit that within the other side, and that is our desire to be part of the community in some way,” says Bradley Birzer, author of “J.R.R. Tolkien’s Sanctifying Myth: Understanding Middle-earth.” 

Once the disparate characters join forces with those of other factions, they don’t give up their original identities. But they don’t remain beholden to them either. “The Expanse” character Naomi Nagata embodies that duality by code-switching between her native Belter language and English. 

The archetypal heroes in these stories exemplify leadership qualities that promote cooperation. They’re able to empathize with multiple groups because they themselves are outsiders by nature. Jon Snow, the hero of “Game of Thrones,” believes that he is the misbegotten son of Ned Stark, Lord of Winterfell. James Holden, the heroic spaceship captain in “The Expanse,” has eight genetic parents. (This is science fiction. It’s complicated.) 

“There are leaders who might try to unite people through sheer force but that tends not to work,” says Daniel Drezner, a professor of international politics at Tufts University, who has written columns for The Washington Post about the political messages of “The Expanse” and “Game of Thrones.” “And then there are leaders who can unite because they have sufficient amounts of empathy and theory of mind to understand not just where they’re coming from, but where their potential allies are coming from.”

The protagonist’s ability to forge a compromise comes from developing a balance between masculine and feminine qualities. In his 2004 book, “The Seven Basic Plots: Why We Tell Stories,” Christopher Booker describes the hero’s journey as an arc in which the embrace of feminine characteristics brings “masculine strength fully to life by giving it the vital ingredient of connection ... which gives a link to others and to the world outside of ego.”

In the final beat of these stories, the protagonist often makes a difficult choice (spoilers ahead). Jon Snow gives up his claim to the Iron Throne. Not just because a chair constructed of swords is perhaps the world’s least comfortable piece of furniture, but because he realizes that lust for power perpetuates group conflict. Similarly, in “The Expanse,” James Holden relinquishes his ego by stepping aside as president of a new intergalactic trade union. He cedes the position to a Belter and thus empowers the solar system’s repressed underclass. It’s setting aside a narrow affiliation with his original identity for the greater good of humanity. “He’s trying to lean toward the light,” explains Mr. Abraham. “That’s what makes him a hero.”

He and his fellow author admit that the character represents an idealism. 

“I’m a person who believes that we have enough cynicism in the world,” says Mr. Franck. “I think maybe that the piece we’re missing in our heroes right now is a little naiveté.”