House of Cards and Philosophy

Underwood's Republic

J. Edward Hackett

• Publisher: Wiley-Blackwell
• Year: 2015
• ISBN:
  9781119092827
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Filosofía
• Subtopic: Filosofía política

Is Democracy overrated?

Does power corrupt? Or do corrupt people seek power?

Do corporate puppet masters pull politicians' strings?

Why does Frank talk to the camera?

Can politics deliver on the promise of justice?

House of Cards depicts our worst fears about politics today. Love him or loathe him, Frank Underwood has charted an inimitable course through Washington politics. He and his cohorts depict the darkest dealings within the gleaming halls of our most revered political institutions.

These 24 original essays examine key philosophical issues behind the critically-acclaimed series—questions of truth, justice, equality, opportunity, and privilege. The amoral machinations of Underwood, the ultimate anti-hero, serve as an ideal backdrop for a discussion of the political theories of philosophers as diverse as Plato, Aristotle, Nietzsche, Machiavelli, Hobbes, and Marx. From political and corporate ethics, race relations, and ruthless paragmatism to mass media collusion and sexual politics, these essays tackle a range of issues important not only to the series but to our understanding of society today.

Part I
SOCRATES, PLATO, AND FRANK

1
Of Sheep, Shepherds, and a Wolf in Sheep's Clothing
The Cynical View of Politics in House of Cards and Plato's Republic

James Ketchen and Michael Yeo

The road to power is paved with hypocrisy.

—Frank Underwood

The reviews all seem to agree: “The Empty Cynicism of House of Cards,” reads one. “The Most Cynical Show on TV,” reads another. And “The Very American Cynicism of House of Cards,” reads yet another.

The reviews are still coming in on Plato's (428–348 BCE) Republic,¹ which ends more optimistically than House of Cards probably will. Frank Underwood and House of Cards in general are modern manifestations of a deeply cynical view of politics, and as such they reflect the challenge of the Sophists presented by Plato in Books 1 and 2 of the Republic. In Plato's day, professional teachers called Sophists taught the youth of Athens the political skills purported to be necessary for success in public life. Key to their teaching was a cynicism about the political world in which the strong get the better of the weak, and where exploitation, manipulation, and, yes, hypocrisy “paved the road to power.”

Justice and Power

The Republic is very much a philosophical set piece, each part carefully designed to further the arguments and ideas under consideration. Early on in Book 1, the character Socrates turns the discussion to the nature of justice.² In the ensuing discussion, Socrates' interlocutors give several definitions like “justice is telling the truth and paying one's debts,”³ or “justice is helping one's friends and hurting one's enemies.”⁴ None of these definitions stands up to scrutiny as Socrates exposes weaknesses in them.

A decisive transition in the dialogue occurs when the character Thrasymachus—a Sophist—forcefully intervenes like a “wild beast,”⁵ saying that the discussion of justice to that point has been stupid and naïve. Thrasymachus offers his own definition: Justice “is nothing but the advantage of the stronger.”⁶ This account is not so much about how we ought to live as it is about the de facto status of what norms guide us. The rules benefit the powerful. That's just how it goes.

Thrasymachus' view of politics, like Frank's, is deeply cynical. Politics is about power, and nothing more. The powerful will see to it that the rules serve their interest. From the standpoint of those who don't have power, the rules will not be to their advantage but to someone else's advantage. In the course of his defense, Thrasymachus slides from a descriptive statement to an evaluative one: Those who are just (who follow the rules) are dupes or suckers. One would be better off not following the rules, if one had the power and ability, and so living the life of injustice is supremely preferable to the life of justice. It is, in short, better to be ruthless and unjust than it is to be just and taken advantage of.

Underwood's Cynical Use of “His People”

Frank often asserts a kind of ownership over people. Certainly, this “ownership” is not in the form of chattel slavery, but in important respects his relations with other characters go beyond just manipulation.

One of Frank's central strategies is to place people in thrall to him. At one point he refers to his Gaffney, South Carolina, constituents as “my people,” and this means more than just “those like me” or “the people from which I come.” There is a sense of proprietorship in his attitude, as though Gaffney were a kind of fiefdom or, perhaps, apropos of the Republic and Thrasymachus, a flock of sheep. Evocative of this latter image is Frank's admiration for Tusk, who, he tells us, “Measures wealth not in jets but in purchased souls.”

Arguably the most tragic of Frank's “sheep” is Peter Russo, who upon coming to the end of the line with Frank, bleats forlornly, “Whenever has your help helped me?” Frank even gets Russo to sacrifice and slaughter some of his own sheep with the closing of the naval base in Russo's district. Countless lives were ruined, and the social upheaval was immeasurable.

Stamper, Meechum, Sharp, Seth, his Gaffney constituents—all are, for Frank, merely sheep to be used as the shepherd sees fit: groomed and perhaps pampered one moment, fleeced and even sacrificed the next. Admittedly, some of his sheep are more wolf-like than others (Stamper, Seth, and Jackie, for example). In keeping with a metaphor from the Republic, we might think of them rather as “sheepdogs” than “sheep.” Nonetheless, all are at his mercy, all serve at his pleasure, and he makes it clear that he can and will do with them as he pleases. Notably, the most significant early falling out between Frank and Claire, which foreshadows the decisive falling out at the end of Season 3, occurs when she accuses him of using her “like you use everyone else.” Claire is a fellow shepherd, not merely Frank's “head sheep” or, as Jackie Sharp refers to herself, his “pit bull.” She is quick to remind Frank of that status. All of this cynical manipulation was long anticipated in the Republic.

Socrates deploys the shepherd–sheep analogy in attempting to refute Thrasymachus' view that justice is the advantage of the stronger. As this analogy would have it, the relationship between ruler and ruled is like that between shepherd and flock. As a shepherd's charge is to look after and care for the sheep, so too a proper ruler should act only to secure the advantage of the ruled. Thrasymachus will have none of this argument. He turns the analogy around on Socrates: It may be true that the shepherd cares for the wellbeing of his flock, but only insofar as it is ultimately to his advantage to do so. Thrasymachus scoffs smugly (as Frank often does),

[Y]ou do not even recognize sheep or shepherd.… You suppose shepherds or cowherds consider the good of the sheep or the cows and fatten them and take care of them looking to something other than their masters' good and their own; and so you also believe that the rulers in the cities, those who truly rule, think about the ruled differently from the way a man would regard sheep, and that night and day they consider anything else than how they will benefit themselves.⁷

Much in this exchange comes to life and is reflected in how Frank uses people. The exchange contrasts two views. On one view, politicians ought to strive not for their own interests but rather for those who they are said to represent. On the second view, as a matter of fact politicians ultimately serve their own interests; they serve the interests of the people only to the extent that this advances their own interests. The reason the latter, “realist” view is thought to be cynical is precisely because it grates against the former, “idealist” view. Thus, if the view of politics presented by Thrasymachus and House of Cards is cynical, it is so because it grates against some idealist view we hold about what politics should be.

It's clear enough that Frank has a cynical, or realist, view of politics. Even when it appears that he is acting on behalf of his constituents, like the parents of the girl who drove off the road distracted by the giant peach, he is really acting to advance his own interests (avoiding lawsuits and bad publicity). Everything that Frank does is calculated to advance his immediate and ultimate interests and to augment his power. That is precisely as Thrasymachus would have it. And, if we are honest with ourselves, we will admit that we too often find the realist view attractive. Frank both repels and attracts us after all. As we shall see, it is precisely this tension, between our idealist and realist selves, that makes the Sophist's (not to mention Frank's) challenge so powerful.

It's Good to Be Bad

As if to appeal to the realist in all of us, Thrasymachus shifts the focus of the debate. Not only does he insist that “justice is the interest of the stronger,” but he adds that the unjust life is better and to be preferred to the just life.

To be just, or to act justly, is a “high-minded innocence” or naivety in one's view of the world that sets one up to be used and manipulated. To practice injustice is the best sort of life because it allows the unjust to get the better of the just and to attain what they desire. Justice is either for fools (like Blythe) who don't understand that the stronger have pulled the wool over their eyes, or for those who are too weak (like Zoe's colleague Janine) to challenge the strong.

Early in the series we actually see Frank suffer what, on this realist view, would surely be an “injustice.” Frank is “cheated” out of his appointment as secretary of state. It is a tough blow after all of his hard, loyal work. Frank didn't see it coming because he underestimated his opponents. In this situation, he was gotten the better of because he had played by the rules and expected others to keep their promises and reward loyal service. That Walker and Vasquez broke their promise echoes Thrasymachus' contention that the unjust will almost always cheat on promises, at least when it suits them and furthers their own interests.⁸ Frank certainly takes this to heart and never looks back, fully embracing prudence and i...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Series
• Title page
• Copyright
• Introduction: Contemplating a House of Cards
• PART I SOCRATES, PLATO, AND FRANK
• PART II IMAGINING POSSIBILITIES: AMERICAN IDEALS IN HOUSE OF CARDS
• PART III CHARACTERIZING FRANK: ÜBERMENSCH OR THE PRINCE
• PART IV CLASSICAL LIBERALISM AND DEMOCRACY
• PART V INTRAPERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS, SEXUALITY, AND RACE IN HOUSE OF CARDS
• PART VI EXISTENTIAL REALITIES: SELF-LOVE AND FREEDOM
• PART VII LET ME BE FRANK WITH YOU: AGENCY, AESTHETICS, AND INTENTION
• PART VIII VIRTUE AND CHARACTER IN HOUSE OF CARDS
• President Frank Underwood's White House Staff (Contributors)
• Index
• EULA