Is it Immoral to Like Any Succession Character?
I have just watched Succession’s episode 8 of season 4. It is a weird time to be a Roman fan... Before I jump into this discussion, I want to make it clear that there are huge Succession spoilers ahead of this paragraph. So read with caution.
Succession Season 4 Spoilers Ahead
Let me start by saying, I do not exactly “root” for any characters in Succession, but I have some characters that I am more engaged by than others. Namely, Roman and Shiv. I consider these characters extremely rich and filled with depth, and I love seeing them on screen. They’ve both stolen the show on multiple occasions.
So with this in mind, I am not disappointed or conflicted by what happened in episode 8, where Roman showed his true colours as a full-blown fascist, and where Shiv’s plans fell apart right in front of her (one of these is obviously much worse than the other…)
Episode 8, season 4, has sparked a lot of discourse. This is one of those episodes where people have not only been discussing the nature of the show and the narrative, but they have been actively questioning the moral integrity of the audience. An episode like this turns up every once in a while for Succession. The last big one I can remember was in season 2, when Shiv persuaded a victim of sexual abuse to not speak up.
This time around, the focus is on Roman, who, not only pledged his support to a fascist, but worked tremendously hard to make him the President of the US. The show’s creator, Jesse Armstrong, flippantly referred to this as the “most shocking” episode of the season, and while there is a chance he said this to deflect from the fact that Logan dies in episode 3, I currently agree with him. This was a shocking episode, just not in the conventional sense. The way the characters interacted with each other was heated, intense, and above all it was deeply infantile given the context of the episode.
It was the night of the election, a moment that has been built up since halfway through season 3, and the characters used it as a springboard to explore their own childish thoughts and opinions. Roman argued with Kendall that he should support Menchen because he was never allowed to eat steak when they were kids. Shiv revealed she was pregnant to Tom, and he questioned to her whether her statement was even true, or just a tactic to be used against him (it was likely both). Greg turned Shiv in for her scheming against the siblings because she did not offer him an underhanded deal. And Kendall switched his alliance to Mencken when he found out Shiv had been betraying him (despite his previous worries that his child, Sophie, may be put in danger by Menchen).
What is especially shocking about this episode is that none of these actions should surprise us from these characters; they have never been good, or serious, people. But the nature of the election, coupled with the inability of most characters to even try and see the bigger picture adds an intensity that might be unmatched for the show.
Like most Succession episodes, nobody really comes across well, but one person definitely comes out as the worst, and that is Roman. He is perhaps the most infantile of the group within this episode, and his nihilistic perspective of “nothing happens” is sure to rub anybody who is not a straight white male the wrong way. The consequences of his actions will be felt across the nation within the show. And they are likely to be felt by his niece, too.
Sympathy for the Devil
A heated discourse has emerged after this episode, with people questioning whether it is unethical to like Roman, or root for him. Questions about liking characters arise after most episodes to some degree, but episode 8 has ignited this debate more than ever.
On Twitter and TikTok, some people have been going so far as to say that the audience members who like certain characters are bad people themselves. Or, that liking any character on Succession makes you an awful person.
This way of thinking is nothing new when it comes to art. This topic has arisen many times, over many decades– it is one of the richest intersections between ethics and aesthetics. A relatively modern term used to cover this idea is “Sympathy for the Devil”, which is the act of feeling a level of connection or understanding for somebody who is truly deplorable.
This is a common action that occurs in fiction, especially television, where we spend 20+ hours with certain characters, learning all about their motives, desires, hobbies, traumas, and insecurities.
I want to highlight a fantastic essay that feels very relevant to this discussion, written by the philosopher Alberto N. García. This essay is not exactly about Succession, but rather about the nature of US and British television protagonists within the 2000s and early 2010s. During that time, a similar question arose, but rather aimed at figures like Tony Soprano, Walter White, and Don Draper. All of whom do awful things, but in very different ways.
García’s essay does not directly tackle the question of the audience’s moral integrity, but rather he explores why exactly people would find themselves attached to horrendous characters. He explains that our sympathy for the characters we watch is not built exclusively from their ethical positions (or ours), but rather from a whole host of artistic, aesthetic, and narrative decisions made by the showrunners.
On a narrative level, we are persuaded by the way these characters are victimized, the perversity of their antagonists, and their interactions with family. For the purposes of this discussion, I will ignore the last part, as Succession plays with our notions of family in a uniquely different way from the television of the 2000s.
These narrative elements trigger emotional responses within us as we get further engaged with the art. We immerse ourselves into the specific universe presented to us, tied to the viewpoints and perspectives we are given. This does not mean we cannot break away and form our own judgements, but it cannot be ignored that the worlds we are provided with are designed in a restrictive way (as is the nature of the narrative arts). We build our beliefs (at least in part) from what we get within the artwork.
These artworks use our emotions as their playgrounds– we see how our characters are hurt and victimized, we see their traumas, and we see their happiness. There is a binding formed between us and them. And it is partially through this that we develop a liking for them.
However, it is not only through the narrative that this happens. García points out that music and cinematography contribute to this, too. Emotive shots may happen, paired with intense, musical crescendos. We are led to feel the weight of certain moments in a way that is designed to emulate how these characters feel.
We implicitly connect the visceral nature of how individual scenes feel with the striking narratives that these characters undergo. This can lead us to make immediate moral judgments on certain characters, such as stating that some individuals should succeed in their plans, or that they should live happy lives in the future.
These are not the same type of judgments as saying somebody is a “good” person; rather, they are a type of emotive response to the art itself. It is a mark of engagement with the piece. García highlights this through the words of the philosopher Noël Carroll, who argues that “moral judgments [within audiovisual fiction] are generally fast, automatic, intuitive appraisals; in short, they are emotions”.
It may even be possible to argue that these are aesthetic emotions– this is a term used to describe the unique feelings that people get when appreciating and contemplating an aesthetic object or creation. These emotions are typically tied to the perception of beauty, sublimity, harmony, or other aesthetic qualities. In this sense, we might feel an immediate emotive desire for something to happen to the characters within a show, produced by an amalgamation of the narrative, visual and audio artistry, and our own perceptive abilities.
The Case of Succession
With this in mind, let’s take a look at how this applies to Succession. I will use Roman as an example, as he is currently the most traditionally disgusting character on the show. From a narrative point, he is often viewed by the audience as the most victimized and abused of the siblings. He shows markers of sexual abuse, we see him physically hit by his father, and we learn early on that he used to be locked in a cage.
His story, lore, and character composition are made up of various cycles of abuse. All of Succession’s characters have faced abuse, but no character is suggested to have been abused as much as Roman. From a narrative perspective, he is presented oftentimes as an underdog, or as a figure who does not have success in the confines of the show. That is not to say he actually is an underdog, as he is very clearly in the top position of co-CEO. But the show constructs him as such.
As for the audiovisual aspects, Succession is known to have fantastic cinematography, and a beautifully haunting and telling score. Generally, the best angles and music are saved for Kendall (my favourite track and shot from the show is played at the end of episode 8 of season 3, where Kendall nearly drowns in a pool). However, the show does not hold back with these elements from anybody, and distributes them to all of the characters to some extent. Kendall definitely gets the most attention in this regard, but Roman gets his fair share, too.
With all of this in mind, people’s support of Roman is rarely formed due to a logical and meticulous examination of his actions and beliefs, but rather an emotive response to his place within the artwork of Succession. This emotive response appears to take the form of a moral judgment, but it is less about aligning a moral compass within his direction, and more about feeling emotionally linked to the aesthetics of his story.
If Roman existed in the real world, I would not support him. I think this is the case for most of his fans. Reality is not, in and of itself, aesthetic or artistic. Rather, it is a rich and immersive space we all have an intimate interlinked relationship with. We are not fed a lense of audiovisual material, with a carefully constructed narrative. And when we are fed those things, we understand them as serving a larger, transactional purpose. If something similar to this existed in reality, we would be able to easily sniff it out as propaganda, and our response to it would be more socio-political, as the world would ask us to engage with it in a very different way than we are encouraged to with a piece of art.
Final Words
I believe that there is nothing amoral about supporting dangerous or unsavory characters in a piece of art. Our responses to these figures are more of an aesthetic emotion, driven by our interpretations of the artistry presented to us, rather than a precise and carefully constructed worldview or concrete statement aligning with these characters’ actions and ideas.
This can be applied to any narrative media, but it is especially prevalent with Succession, where some people seem to conflate character fanbases with socio-political statements. These are bad-faith arguments, ignoring the rich ability that art has to modify our real-world beliefs (at least at first glance). When it comes to appreciating art, none of our morals are safe. There is a recognizable chasm between reality and unreality, and just as we suspend our beliefs about how certain narratives unfold, or how certain physics models work, we can also suspend our moral beliefs in light of the aesthetics presented to us.
