He sees you when you’re sleeping
He knows if you’re awake
He knows if you’ve been bad or good
So you’d better be good for goodness’ sake…
– Haven Gillespie, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”

This lyric is deliberately ironic wordplay and incredibly clever.

First, you have to understand that “for goodness’ sake!” is a euphemistic replacement for the curse “for God’s sake!”. (Similar to the also common “for Pete’s sake!”)

The immediate syntax of the line itself, as you note, carries the meaning that you should be good for the sake of doing good (“do good for goodness’ sake”).

The juxtaposition of the line with “he knows if you’ve been bad or good”, however, calls that interpretation into question and reveals the ironic nature of the line: It’s not “do good for the sake of goodness”, it’s “for God’s sake, do good because the fatman knows what you’re doing!”.

The ironic use of the phrase “for goodness’ sake”, however, also calls attention to the fact that the euphemism is replacing the identity of God. We note, therefore, that this conception of Santa Claus as an omniscient arbiter of morality to whom we perform certain rites and rituals (writing of letters, leaving out a sacrifice of milk and cookies, etc.) raises him to a sort of primitive godhood. As the lyric replaces the identity of God, so does Santa Claus replace the identity of God. Our “worship” of Santa Claus is, in fact, a form of idolatry.

And the prohibition against idolatry is, in fact, why we use euphemisms like “for goodness’ sake” instead of God’s name.

Seeing that God is hidden in the lyric, however, reveals another layer of meaning: The ironic construction of the line is designed to highlight an ideological conflict between “you should do good because it’s good” and “you should do good because otherwise you will be punished by an omniscient power”. And that’s a philosophical criticism which applies whether you’re talking about “coal in a stocking” or “being sent to Hell”.

It’s not just a playful jab at the panopticon mythology of Santa Claus. It fundamentally questions the dichotomy of religious belief in beneficent higher powers that will ruthlessly punish you if your cross them.

Most people, of course, won’t consciously plumb the rhetorical depths of the song like this. But what makes it an effective and memorable lyric is that pretty much everybody can sense the strong ironic tension in it. It may do nothing more than amuse you; but in that amusement the song has caused you to smirk at one of the major underpinnings of most religious faith.

Go to Part 1

GOVERNMENT

The government which was formed under the counsels of Sartra, Duke Daneel, and General Baghera was, naturally, of a constitutional nature; expounding the freedoms of its citizens and laying out a concrete system of governance. Based upon the classical three-tiered system of democratic government dating back to before the founding of the First Republic, the great nationalistic pride which most of the Concordat communities have felt towards this edifice of power has had a general homogenizing effect on many regional and local governments as well. Although there are exceptions the vast majority of Concordatian governments function along this same basic model.

Essentially government in the Concordat is split as a republic into four different levels: the Galactic, the Planetary, the Regional, and the Local. The former, as the name implies, is the government founded under the guidance of Sartra; it rules over the whole of the Concordat. The second, the next step down from the Galactic, takes a variety of specific forms, but adopts the common name of Planetary because it is generally composed of planet-wide governments. Most planetary governments oversee a group of Regional governments, which deal largely in bureaucratic initiatives focusing on specific sections of individual worlds. Finally, Local governments usually take the form of county boards or city councils, dealing with the nitty-gritty details at the most immediate level to the average citizen.

The galactic government, as noted, is a federal constitutional system with a legislative, an executive, and a judicial branch. The executive is composed primarily of the President, who serves a five year term, and his immediate advisors and bureaucratic chiefs. The legislative is formed around a bicameral Congress composed of two houses – the Assembly and the Senate. The Assembly draws its membership proportionally from each planet, serving three year terms. The Senate is composed of three members from each planet, one of which is elected every two years to serve a six year term.

The Judicial system established by Sartra is the most unique element of the Concordat system of government. At its highest level it is composed of a Supreme Court formed of ten Justices. All of these Justices are popularly elected at the Galactic level. Five positions are possessed of a lifetime term; five of a ten year term. At the lower levels cases are heard by a Judicial Panel consisting of six Judges and six Jurors. The Judges are elected officials; the Jurors are randomly selected citizens who serve on a single panel. Unlike previous jury systems, Sartra’s did not have a lengthy juror selection system designed to minimize prejudice within the jury system – instead he saw that the judicial system could be sped up considerably be simply slotting in the first six randomly determined jurors, and then using the six judges to counterbalance any missteps on the parts of the jurors. The judges would counteract the vagaries and prejudices of the jurors, while the jurors would counteract the tendency to corruption or tyranny which might breed within the judges.

Finally a Bill of Rights rounds out the constitutional system, protecting the citizens of the Concordat from infringement by the government on many “basic rights”.

Most Concordat citizens are, rightfully or not, extremely proud of the freedoms and democracy which their government represents. The Galactic Constitution and the principles on which it is founded are regarded as unquestioned virtues.

RELIGION

In the nine centuries since the end of the Second Dark Age the Orthodox Church and religion in general have weakened within the borders of the Concordat. When the Church Elders, based on Mecca, were finally forced by grassroots efforts to recognize and join the Concordat government they lost a great deal of political power. The Constitution as defined under Sartra not only encouraged, but enforced and exemplified a strict restriction on the intermingling of church and state. He respected primarily the freedom of the individual, and knew that the structure of the Orthodox Church would lead to an oppression of minority interests and beliefs if they were allowed access to pure political power.

Without the political power to puritanically enforce their religious views, the Orthodox Church found its constituency base begin to splinter apart. Although true alternatives to the Omega Gospels and the worship of the Pancreator do not really exist, the way in which the Pancreator is worshipped and the Omega Doctrines interpreted have begun to diversify. As the Church has found itself broken apart by differing interpretations and modes of belief, religious fervor in general has suffered: It is easier to believe in unprovable religious truths if the religious community is unified; if it is fragmented it is easier to simply dismiss them as whole.

ORTHODOX CHURCH: The Orthodox Church is still the primary religious institution in the Concordat, with fully 25% of the population under its auspices in one capacity or another. With that being said, however, it is necessary to admit that the church is little more than a shadow of its former self. Although the official doctrine still supports the belief that the Patriarch of Mecca is the spiritual leader of the Church, the average churchgoer is far more relaxed in his beliefs – accepting official Church doctrine only when it suits them.

As noted the Orthodox Church structure is still based primarily on Mecca, a planet which assumed religious prominence due to the abundance of Ur gargoyles and ruins on its surface. When the Concordat sealed itself off from the rest of the galaxy the church leaders on Mecca seized political control of the planet and asserted their leadership on the church structures of the Ten Worlds.

LIBERALISM: About two decades after Mecca finally capitulated and joined the Concordat the unified facade of the Church began to crumble under the religious teachings of Uther Fairchild. Fairchild preached that belief in the perfection of the Patriarch was a fallacy. Instead of looking to the Church for leadership the faithful should instead look to it only for guidance – the truth of the Pancreator was not to be found in edicts, but through the exploration of a personal truth reached through personal interpretation. Each individual should strive to interpret the Omega Gospels in their own way and to find the truths within it which are meaningful to their own lives. The structure of the Church, Fairchild said, was only useful in so far as it served to educate and to guide the faithful through their own spiritual journey.

Such convictions quickly found fertile soil in the fresh nationalism which was spreading through the freshly formed Concordat. The Church, stripped of its power to politically silence Fairchild, could do nothing more than excommunicate the rebellious teacher. It has long been argued whether or not this was an even greater mistake by the Church – the highly public excommunication of Fairchild, and Fairchild’s own embracing of this new reality, served not as a warning, but as a clarion call that the Church’s ability to tyrannically enforce its view of faith was broken by the realities of the new system of government.

Today nearly 15% of Concordat citizens are members of the Liberalist church – making it the strongest competitor with the Orthodox for the faith of the people. It also remains at bitter doctrinal and political odds with what it perceives to be the archaic, restrictive, and false tyranny of the Orthodox religious teachings.

THE SAINTED ORDERS: The Sainted Orders date back to an amalgamation of different religious sects in the 46^th century. The basic structure of the belief differs depending upon which Order one is analyzing, but the central tenet is that the Prophet was actually the living incarnation of the Pancreator, with all or some of his eight followers sainted and/or deified as well.

Although initially a great populist success the Sainted Orders have faced a general decline for several centuries. During the past hundred years or so this trend has been accelerated because the Orders have tended to be a haven of religious extremists. The loose collection of slightly differing religious beliefs within the Orders makes it easy for radical cults to spring up and mass suicides, murders, and religo-terrorist actions have become semi-regular events.

REJUVENITES: At one point during the early scientific renaissance of the Human Concordat a popular theory held that the dimming of the suns was simply part of a long galactic cycle which would, eventually, reverse itself. In short, there was nothing to be particularly worried about – the problem would take care of itself. Although this theory has since been discredited and now is largely ignored, the idea seemed to find ideal fermentation within the religious community. The Rejuvenite faith maintains the Orthodox position that the suns are fading because of the sins of mankind, but they differ in one important respect: There is no hope of rekindling them. They are a sign of the end of an age, at which point the Pancreator will “clothe himself within the confines of the flesh” and “walk among the people of the Galaxy” to “pass judgment upon the deeds of his servants, faithful and unfaithful”.

If the Pancreator finds mankind worthy he will “rekindle the stars with the light of his love” and a golden age will ensue. If not, then he will destroy mankind and start anew. The Rejuvenites hold that just such an event occurred eons ago when the Ur races ruled the universe, and that the Ur races were found unworthy.

Some fringe Rejuvenites believe that each race will be judged in turn, and particular focus has been spent upon the Vau. Some believe that the Vau have found the true secrets to acceptance in the eyes of the Pancreator and that their ways should be emulated. Others imagine some sort of interspecies contest in which only one will be chosen to proceed into the golden age – they would have the Concordat attack and destroy the Vau.

URITIC ORDER: The Uritic Order was initially an order of monks organized around the teachings of Petref Alanna in the 47^th century. Its spiritual roots lie with both the Rejuvenites and the Sainted Orders. Alanna accepted the belief that the fading suns were an indication of the end times, which would culminate in a judgment of mankind which would determine whether mankind would be sent into a golden age.

Instead of believing that the alternatives were either a golden age here in this plane of existence or utter destruction, Alanna believed that in the judgment the Pancreator would send those he chose as worthy into another plane of existence – a Nirvana or a Heaven. Those who were not chosen would remain behind. He said that the Ur races had not failed the test, they had passed it and been sent on into this other plane – leaving the imperfect Ur-Ukar and Ur-Obun, who had failed the Pancreator’s test, behind.

Finally Alanna said, along with the Sainted Orders, that the Prophet was not a mortal man. However, he did not embrace the conclusion that the Prophet was an incarnation of the Pancreator, either. Instead, he said, the Prophet was a reincarnation of the collective wisdom of the Elder Races and focused particular attention upon the role of the Ur-Obun Follower, Ven Lohji.

Since Alanna’s death the ideas of the Uritic Order become more widely popular and accepted. Although the Order still exists as a brotherhood of monks, it is also complicated by an infrastructure of “Houses of the Order” which teach and give a sense of religious community to those who are not brothers, but still embrace the beliefs of the Order.

PROMETHEAN DIVISION: The Promethean Division is, in some ways, not so much a religious sect as it is the opposite of a religious sect. It is based on the belief that the Prophet was, in fact, a False Prophet used as an unwitting tool of the dark spirits. Where the Omega Gospels present a highly structured set of moral beliefs, the adherents of the Promethean Divsion believe that the only true sin is becoming obsessed with sin – particularly over the sins of others.

This should not be viewed as a complete abandonment of moral authority (few Prometheans take it so far), but Prometheans generally believe the proper purview of ethical questions should be calmly reasoned as a tradeoff between infringing individual freedom and allowing the actions of individuals to impinge upon the freedoms of others. “Sin” doesn’t enter into it, and remains the purview of the individual’s discretion. Risk damnation if you want, but it is your decision so long as you do not infringe upon my freedom.

Nor should this be construed as a denial of the Pancreator. The Promethean Division embraces the concept of the Pancreator, but sees the Pancreator as embracing and supporting their philosophy of freedom and scientific improvement. The stars are not fading because of the Pancreator’s anger over the sinfulness of his people, they say, the stars are fading because religious fanatics are obsessing over imagined “sins”.

SATHRAISM: Although religious freedom is almost utterly uninfringed upon and many minor non-Omega sects proliferate, Sathraism is still banned. Members of the Orthodox Church, other sects, and a majority of private citizens believe that the effects of jumpgate travel on which Sathraism are based are physically and mentally harmful. “Public safety” legislation, therefore, prevents the exercise of Sathraism, and so far the Courts are unwilling to challenge it.

ANTINOMY: Like Sathraism, the mysterious rites of Antinomists have been banned. They are considered highly subversive and dangerous by even the non-religious, and the remaining political forces of the religious orders reinforce this conviction.

Go to Part 3: Worlds of the Concordat

Symbols by Gail Frazer (Design) and Seth Bacon (Digital Finish)
Jumpweb Map by Keith Johnson

This article was originally published in Pyramid Magazine on January 6th, 2001.

THE FALL

It was a golden age, humanity’s finest hour, and it was coming to an end. During the time of the Second Republic all of humanity had been joined into a whole across the vastness of interstellar space, but now, under the petty manipulations and power mongering of the noble families, humanity’s cohesion and greatness was pushed to its limits and then broken. The Second Republic fell.

And as the Chaos of the Fall began to spread, as darkness enveloped world after world, as the people became frightened and afraid, neighbor began to war on neighbor once more and all of human society teetered upon the edge of barbarity and obscurity. World after world sealed themselves away from neighbors who, once friendly, could now only be considered potential invaders.

These worlds were lost from Known Space – that region around Holy Terra, the birthplace of humanity, where treacherous noble families who had engineered the Fall consolidated their power. As the universe was plunged into a new Dark Age, the wonders of the Second Republic were forgotten and lost.

Over the years some of these lost worlds have regained contact with Known Space as sealed gates reopened and forgotten jumpkeys were rediscovered. There they found a power struggle between feudal lords, merchant guilds, and an orthodoxical church all struggling to impose their will upon the shattered remnants of human society. Some of these worlds have rejoined the worlds of Known Space (whether through their own will or through compulsion), while others have maintained their barbarian ways and seek to conquer the Known Worlds and seize their secrets and remaining civilization. Without exception, however, it is believed by the citizens of the Empire that the worlds of Known Space are the only significant civilization of interstellar proportion to have survived the Fall.

They are wrong.

During the aftermath of the Fall a second group of worlds found themselves isolated. As the universe fractured and the shadows spread over humanity, ten worlds found themselves alone among the stars. These ten worlds – Alhera, Cyberna, Kyreen, Unan, Mecca, Poa’pal, Tua’kal, Barre, Jandi, and Ayto – squabbled and traded and warred among each other as the memory of the Second Republic began to fade. As Known Space was sliding into a Dark Age, so, too, were these worlds. As it was for what would become the Empire, so it was for what would become known as the Human Concordat.

THE SARTRAN DOCTRINES

In the year 4110, a mere hundred years after the catastrophe of the Fall and the New Dark Age began, a new voice was heard among this small enclave of humanity. The voice belonged to a man who was known only as Sartra, and he taught a lesson of unity. He refused to recognize Alheran as different from Cybernan, or Cybernan from Jandite, or Jandite from Aytan. He called to them all as citizens of what he termed the Ten Worlds, and he reminded them that all were human. He called them brother, and in seeing him as such so they saw each other as kin. His teachings rekindled the memories of the Second Republic and a time when all humanity was composed of a single, glorious whole. He gave the people of the Ten Worlds a new identity, a common identity. He brought them together and bound them to a common purpose.

His words inspired many, both high and low, but the most important of his converts was Duke Daneel, the eldest member of House Britannia. House Britannia was of minor importance before the Fall, but had managed to secure sole sovereignty over the planet of Alhera. By the time of Sartra, Alhera had risen to be the brightest star of the Ten Worlds and House Britannia’s power had grown great indeed. But Daneel was a wise and compassionate man, and when he heard the words of Sartra he sought out this man and gained his friendship.

Of perhaps only slightly less importance than Duke Daneel was General Anton Baghera, the feudal warlord who had seized control of the world of Cyberna twenty years earlier and now ruled it with an iron grip. He, too, became Sartra’s friend, and these three unlikely allies joined upon an even more unlikely mission – the establishment of an interstellar government which was, in many ways, even more liberal than that which had ruled over the Second Republic. In the year 4125 General Baghera and the nobles of House Britannia both relinquished their power, and the worlds of Alhera and Cyberna both became the first members of the newly formed Human Concordat, with Sartra elected as its first president.

Over the next decade the remaining eight members of Sartra’s Ten Worlds joined the Concordat, one by one, with Mecca – ruled over by the suspicious Orthodox Church – joining last in 4135. Although the Concordat, under the careful guidance of President Sartra, never attempted any military or economic coercion of the other worlds, still blood was shed. Freedom fighters on many worlds threw down what they saw as oppressive governments, while freedom fighters on other worlds attempted to prevent their world from “surrendering” to the Concordat (of particular note is the Order for Aytan Freedom which nearly succeeded in sealing Ayto’s jumpgate in order to prevent their world from joining the new government).

Shortly after Mecca joined the Concordat Sartra’s second term of office as President came to an end and he retired from public life. He lived a life of seclusion for another ten years before disappearing entirely in the year 4145. Shortly following his disappearance, and assumed death, a collected book of his teachings – entitled the Sartran Doctrines – appeared. This book, still considered the greatest philosophical and political teachings ever constructed, has proved to be one of the most important historical documents to the Human Concordat, second only to the Constitution which also bears Sartra’s hand.

THE HUMAN CONCORDAT

It has been over 850 years since Sartra’s death. During that time the Concordat has slowly grown to be the society which Sartra imagined not only as an ideal, but as a reality. They have become a liberal and peace-loving people, worked hard to regain the technological knowledge lost during the Fall, and dedicated themselves to the principles of liberty and equality which Sartra set down in the Doctrines. To a large degree they have succeeded.

Perhaps one of the highest things that the Concordat values is the preservation of knowledge. Through the Doctrines the memories of the Fall are still kept fresh, and all of Concordat society dreads such a repetition. Knowledge, they know, is the most precious of all commodities – and all too easily lost. They have worked hard to regain what was lost during one hundred years of barbarity, and have largely succeeded – propelling their understanding of the universe back to a place which is, in some ways, stronger than the Second Republic, while still being deficient in others.

The Concordat has also taken steps to recompense the alien species which have been trodden under humanity’s foot over the millenia – even going so far as to restore homeworlds where that has been possible. These initiatives meant that when the Concordat again made contact with the Vau, their relationship with them was much easier than it had been in the past. Although it is perhaps not peace, it is an understanding.

But the Concordat has not contented itself with civil rights merely for the disenfranchised within its borders, it has pushed for a society which is in all ways possessed of more liberty and greater hope. These advances, naturally, have had their price for some: The nobles were disenfranchised under the rule of Sartra, and now they are nothing but fading memories. The Church, unable to politically force one view of itself upon the populace, has found itself splintered time and again by divisive sects of belief. Although it is still technically true that nearly 75% of the population believes in the Pancreator, many of these are those whose place in the church has lapsed along with their conviction.

In truth, though, perhaps the greatest accomplishment of the Concordat is not tangible at all – but rather the essence of the society they have unconsciously constructed. Where Sartra found a set of fractured and disparate worlds there is now one society, which has as its identity not separate cultures, but all humanity. Where once humanity was divided, it has been made whole. As, over the years, other lost worlds have made contact with the Concordat and joined this society, it has become apparent that the greatest gifts which have been offered are these: Unity, Peace, and Hope.

CONCORDAT AND EMPIRE

The year is now 5000 A.D. In Known Space five years have passed since the coronation of Emperor Alexius, whose brave new reforms and attempts to rekindle an exploratory spirit in his people have just begun to have some long-term effect. In the midst of this growing renaissance in the Empire, a jumpgate between one of the outer worlds of the Concordat and Byzantium Secundus reopens.

The first tentative contact between these two societies has been mutually positive. Emperor Alexius is overjoyed to have regained contact with so large a segment of lost humanity, while the Concordat is overjoyed in the discovery that they have not been alone in maintaining interstellar civilization. But these two societies are polar opposites of each other – diametrically positioned on the political, social, and religious spectrums. Although for now goodwill prevails, can it not be said that conflict is inevitable? And if so… what then?

Go to Part 2: Government & Religion

Go to Part 1

Given the deep connections between the two plays, it would be logical to assume that either Richard II was written as a sequel to Richard II: Thomas of Woodstock or that R2: Woodstock was written as a prequel to Richard II.

Since it’s comparatively more common for authors to write sequels rather than prequels, let’s start with that hypothesis. If Richard II was written as a sequel to R2: Woodstock, we would expect to see callbacks to the earlier play. In just such a fashion, Shakespeare in Henry V has the king pray to God to forgive the deposition of Richard II by his father; and in Richard III he explicitly builds upon the murders seen onstage during the Henry VI plays.

Richard II similarly seems to build upon R2: Woodstock. Take, for example, the Duchess of Gloucester. She appears in the second scene of Richard II, laments the loss of her husband in commiseration with the Duke of York, and then disappears from the play entirely. Why? From a dramatic point of view, her brief presence seems to contribute very little (if anything) to the narrative of Richard II.

On the other hand, the scene serves admirably as a bridge between Richard II and R2: Woodstock, where the Duchess is an integral and pervasive character throughout the play. Viewed in this light, her appearance neatly ties off the plot of the previous play and helps transition the audience into the new circumstances of the sequel.

The frequent references to Richard as the “landlord of England” in R2: Woodstock might also be an example of this. The epithet is deeply tied into the narrative of R2: Woodstock (which revolves around the “renting” of the kingdom to Bushy, Bagot, Green, and Scroop). In Richard II, where the “leasing” of the kingdom is barely mentioned, the “landlord” reference is used only once, by the Duke of Lancaster:

Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world,
It were a sharm to let this land by lease;
But for thy world enjoying but this land,
Is it not more than shame to shame it so?
Landlord of England art thou now, not king.

The line is a memorable one, and its power and meaning can certainly be carried through performance even when an audience doesn’t really know what Lancaster is talking about. But can’t it also be read as a dramatist reminding his audience of the events they saw in the previous play?

On the other hand, there are aspects of the play which make Richard II‘s role as a sequel seem doubtful. The most egregious example is the character of Greene, who dies dramatically in the closing scenes of R2: Woodstock only to “reappear” without explanation in Richard II (only to be executed by Bolingbroke).

The death of Greene in R2: Woodstock is completely unhistorical (he was, in fact, executed by Bolingbroke), but that’s of little consequence. (Elizabethan history plays, like modern Hollywood movies “based on a true story”, are studded with historical inaccuracies for the sake of dramatic necessity.) What seems impossible, however, is that an author would write a sequel to their own work featuring a character they had killed off in the previous installment!

… right?

Actually, it’s not quite so clear-cut. Consider the example of Jurassic Park: In the novel written by Michael Crichton the character of Ian Malcolm (played by Jeff Goldblum in the movie) dies. In the movie, on the other hand, Ian Malcolm survives. And when Steven Spielberg went to make the sequel, he wanted it to star Jeff Goldblum. But he also wanted it to be based on a novel by Crichton. Which is why Crichton’s The Lost World stars the formerly dead Ian Malcolm and never really bothers explaining how that could be true.

Am I saying Shakespeare had a film deal? No. I’m just pointing out that continuity errors ““ even a continuity error as significant as ignoring the death of a character ““ aren’t enough to prove that Michael Crichton didn’t write The Lost World.

In the case of Greene, there are any number of hypothetical possibilities: The actor playing Green could have proven popular enough to bring back the character. Our copy of R2: Woodstock could have been altered to include Greene’s dramatic death at a point where continuity with Richard II had become irrelevant. Or it could predate a rewrite which would have made R2: Woodstock more consistent with its sequel. Or perhaps the Shakespeare simply discovered he needed the character of Greene in Richard II and decided he didn’t care about the continuity problems.

Unfortunately, all of this speculation still leaves us at an impasse: Was Richard II written as a sequel to R2: Woodstock, building on its predecessor while recalling its dramatic arcs? Maybe. Was R2: Woodstock written as a prequel to Richard II, deliberately fleshing out material left undeveloped or merely evoked by the earlier play? It seems just as likely.

Go to Part 3

Originally posted on September 16th, 2010.