Justified and Philosophy

GERALD BROWNING

Lawman Raylan Givens is a stark contrast to career criminal Boyd Crowder. The tension between the two men is one of the main reasons why we keep watching Justified. Their ways of thinking are diametrically opposite, with Raylan always trying to make sure that justice is dispensed equally and fairly (at least in his own mind) no matter what the costs, and Boyd more concerned with bringing about the best consequences for himself and his loved ones, even if a little lawbreaking occurs in the process.

Duty Bound

Raylan Givens is a good example of a deontologist, someone who thinks that the right and moral thing to do is always connected to a rational duty, and that you must “do your duty” no matter what the situation, circumstances, or consequences that result from you doing it.

A married man has a duty to uphold his marriage vow and not have sex with the stripper at his friend’s bachelor party, even though everyone else does. George Washington was doing his duty in not telling a lie when asked whether he chopped down a cherry tree, even if it got him a whipping from his old man. Does a cop know he may be killed at any moment? Of course. But he protects people—he does his duty—no matter what may happen to him, even if he gets killed in the process. The first responders who died in the Twin Towers on 9/11 were doing their duty in trying to help people and get them out of the buildings. You get the picture.

Lawmen like sheriffs, deputies, and marshals of the American Old West are often portrayed in movies and stories as deontologists doing their duty, for example, by sticking around town to protect it from outlaws who will be arriving on the noon train when everyone else hightails it outta there. They know they’re risking their lives and the lives of their family members but they uphold the law anyway, even if it kills them.

Justified is like a modern-day Western with Raylan as the quintessential lawman bound to do his duty to clean up Harlan County, Kentucky. In the opening scene of the pilot episode (“Fire in the Hole”), we get an idea of Raylan’s moral fiber in the interaction with Tommy Bucks. A heinous murder in Nicaragua caused Raylan to track Bucks from South America to Miami to do his duty and “bring him in.” Of course, Raylan is no dummy, and he protects himself by being a quicker draw than Bucks, killing him dead. Justice was served, and Raylan fulfilled his duty.

One of the biggest moral concerns that plague the deontologist is how do we weigh one moral duty against another? This is a problem that Givens is confronted with in the initial season. While incarcerated after the shooting at Ava Crowder’s house, Boyd learns of Arlo Givens’s (Raylan’s father) involvement with a serious crime. Raylan, who already has a tenuous relationship with his criminal father, is enticed by potential knowledge that Boyd has about his father’s illicit dealings with Boyd’s own father (Bo Crowder). “What if I were to tell you, right now, that I found out something about your daddy. Something that you could use to put him away for the rest of his life. What would you say then?” This was a cliffhanger at the end of one episode. This obviously is one of the biggest dilemmas that Raylan has to address. The stress and indecisiveness on which moral duty supersedes the other: his obligation to the law or his obligation to his family?

Throughout the series Raylan’s Achilles Heel is women. From his protection of Ava Crowder to trying to reconcile with his ex-wife, Winona, Givens has a hero’s complex and rushes to save a damsel in distress. Givens sees this as his duty. However, the dilemma of saving women gets him into trouble. Early in the first season, Raylan sleeps with Ava, thereby putting an inappropriate relationship between a witness and the Marshall into the scenario. This causes Raylan’s boss Art Mullen to confront Raylan—which puts their friendship in jeopardy.

One of the most dramatic scenes between Raylan and Art comes in an argument where Art begins to lose faith in his agent and friend. Givens seems compelled to save a woman much in the same way that gunfighters in western cinema seem compelled to save the damsel in distress. This character trait seems to make him very similar to heroes in the Western genre. However, this is where the similarities end. Raylan, unlike many characters in the past genre, does not always make the morally right decision. In many instances, his weakness for women compels him to make several “wrong” choices.

This weakness forces him to place his career on the line because of his ex-wife, Winona. It comes as no surprise when we find out that Raylan still has feelings for his ex (in fact, this is the main sexual tension throughout the beginning of the series). As Winona deals with a con artist for a husband who gambled a major portion of their earnings away, she steals money from a vault after a bank robbery. She turns to Raylan to help her return the money she stole. Both of these incidents have caused Raylan to evaluate the importance of one duty over another.

However, we see that even the main character can make horrible decisions (yet another reason that keeps us watching week after week). This serves to make him a more complex character. In movies starring John Wayne, we see that he makes the right decision nearly every time. However, we see Raylan making different (and even morally wrong) decisions. These decisions serve to move from one plot point to another. Yet, they also serve to add more depth to the character. No, Raylan cannot be trusted to make the “right” choice over and again. It is these decisions that keep him from the life that he has wanted. It is these choices that create complexity in the storylines and authenticity of the character development.

Givens is the traditional gunslinger lawman. He is quick on the draw, has a strong sense of justice and an innate obligation (or duty) to make certain that justice is dispensed equally and fairly. This clearly makes his views of morality a deontological point of view. And one of the most important aspects of morality is addressing the question of how we make the “right” (or just) decision.

Letting Others Choose

One consistent theme in Raylan’s moral decision-making process is his need to give choices. He gave Tommy Bucks the option of leaving Miami within twenty-four hours of his being caught, or he would shoot him “on sight.” During the tense draw-down scenes (another staple of the television show reminiscent of old westerns), Givens gives his opponents the option of turning away before he inevitably proves that his reflexes are faster. Throughout the series, upon references to Bucks, Raylan speaks with a clear conscience. In Givens’s mind, it was Bucks’s decision to draw down on him.

In an episode where Ava Crowder (a woman from Raylan’s past who needs protection) is held hostage by a rogue sheriff, he asks the sheriff “You really don’t see any other way out of this?” This shows that the very choices that his opponents make seem to weigh significantly on Givens. Afterwards, the sheriff takes Givens hostage and forces him to follow the kidnapped Crowder before both turn the tables on their attackers and arrest them. Raylan does this quite often through the series. The importance of choices (and making the right ones) is a device used quite often in Justified as well as traditional Western films.

An example of this is the quintessential staple in westerns: the fast draw. “I don’t draw my gun unless I intend to kill.” This line uttered by Raylan many times is an excellent example of the gunfighter giving the opponent time (and opportunity) to back away. Just like in the old Westerns, Justified contains many scenes where an outlaw squares off with Givens. An interesting foil to Givens’s fast draw is Fletcher “The Ice Pick” Nix. Nix is a hit man hired by the Dixie Mafia to kill Givens at the beginning of Season Three. In scenes where he uses his quick reflexes to dispatch a target, he “cheats” by moving the gun away from his opponent and towards his hand. Nix exhibits his fast draw, but does it in a dishonest way. Much like Givens, Nix is a deontologist, giving his targets the choice to participate in the kill, yet demonstrates underhandedness. When Raylan and Nix meet, the hit man tries to move the gun, but Givens counters by stabbing Nix through the hand and brutally shooting him.

The choices that the characters make seem to act as a catalyst for their own downfall. One example is the character Dewey Crowe. Dewey acts as the comic relief through much of the series. Dewey is constantly in trouble due to the horrible decisions that he makes. Most of the problems that Dewey incurs seem to come because of the poor decisions that he makes. Watching a heist that occurs on a bus. He decides to steal a shipment of prescription drugs. In addition, to help cover his tracks he places a Stetson on his head and attempts to pass himself off as Marshall Givens, both of which lands him in deep trouble with Givens and the US Marshall’s Service.

In Season Two we’re introduced to Mags Bennett, the matriarch of the Bennett family, a collection of thieves, killers, and pot growers who try to push their way into a vacuum of power in the Harlan County underworld left vacant by the death of Bo Crowder. Mags’s decisions are driven by her desire to increase the power of her family. It seems as if family is the most important thing to Mags. She takes in a little girl named Loretta McCready. She does this after killing her father, a negligent dad who crossed her family one too many times. Mags takes care of Loretta and seems to want to groom her to be a young woman in Mags’s own image. Tender scenes with Loretta and Mags act as a stark contrast to the cruel, vicious personality that comes out when she needs to strong-arm those who seek to stop her from making money off marijuana and other illicit vices. Ultimately, Mags’s faith in family tends to be her own undoing. Mags is yet another prime example of a person’s choices turning into their own undoing.

The choices that the characters make in these episodes can serve to act as their own undoing as well as it can make them who they are. The genius of the show is in its ability to take a character as reprehensible as Boyd Crowder can be and make him seem as if he has a shred of morality to him. In the show, there are no “pure good” or “pure bad”. In a character such as Raylan, there is the capacity for evil in Givens, just as there is a capacity for good in Boyd.

Crowder’s Consequences

Raylan’s foil throughout the series is Boyd Crowder. Whereas Raylan is guided by a sense of justice, Boyd looks to the consequences of his actions. Ethicists would say that while Raylan is a deontologist—following duty regardless of the consequences—Boyd is a consequentialist.

Boyd and Raylan grew up together and worked in the mines as teens. “You watch each other’s backs . . . you get to know a man.” Boyd Crowder, much like Raylan, is very charming. Beneath the southern drawl and hypnotic rhetoric, lies a career criminal and predator. Raylan is driven by an innate sense of duty. Boyd is motivated by a different moral compass. The consequentialist believes that the morally “right” action is the action that maximizes the good. Much like most complex characters, Boyd Crowder’s actions are motivated by a sense of morality.

One of the most interesting examples of Boyd’s ethics in action is his very complex relationship with Ava Crowder. In the beginning of the series, their relationship was tenuous, at best. When Boyd found out that Ava killed his brother (her abusive husband), his intentions were to kill her. However, he voiced that he understood why she did it. Yet, in that same episode, his showdown with Raylan resulted in his being shot in the chest by Givens. Afterwards, Boyd seems to have “found his faith” and recites Bible verses while dispensing vigilante justice to meth dealers in Harlan County. Raylan is not quite sure whether Boyd’s sincere, but Boyd seems to believe that he’s doing the right thing by putting the meth dealers out of business.

It goes without saying that Boyd’s actions have serious repercussions. Whether his intentions are “good” or “bad,” the results have mostly been negative. When Boyd is released from prison, he forms a “church” populated by former convicts. These convicts acted as vigilantes under the supervision of Crowder. The meth dealers that were driven away helped business for Bo Crowder (a big name in the Harlan underworld). Bo bribed his son to keep business going for him, but when Boyd would not play ball (which resulted in the accidental death of a Confidential Informant), Bo killed the members of Boyd’s “congregation.” “I set all of this into motion, didn’t I?” Boyd asks, as he Raylan and he are driving towards a confrontation with Bo Crowder and his minions. It is obvious (especially in the scene where Boyd stumbles across his followers’ bodies) that Boyd is distraught over the deaths of his “flock.”

During the confrontation with Bo Crowder, shooters from Miami (gunning for Raylan) kill Bo Crowder before Boyd has a chance to kill him. “They shot my daddy,” was Boyd’s response to why he wanted to go after the surviving shooter from Miami. When Raylan reminds him of the hypocrisy inherent in that statement, Boyd replies with a curt “But that’s different.” Boyd’s response to the killing of family seems merely retaliatory and has less to do with his positive feelings for his father. Ever the consequentialist, Boyd takes it upon himself to help Raylan take down the killers from Miami. This vendetta continued past the end of the season. Season Two picks up with Boyd in Miami following the shooters, only to be intercepted by Raylan.

The shoot-out which teams Raylan and Boyd together at the end of the first season brings us to a type of ethical theory called contractarianism, which says that two people—two “moral agents”—may act together if the two are working towards a moral “right”. With Ava Crowder in jeopardy, Boyd plotting revenge against his father, and gunners from Miami looking to collect Raylan Givens, Givens and Crowder worked together to make certain that an overall perception of justice (Bo Crowder’s imprisonment or death) is achieved.

In Season Two of we’re exposed to a more complex side of Boyd Crowder. In most of Season One, Boyd is looked at as a suspect and a negative influence on Harlan County. He tried to kill Ava (out of family vengeance), lost a draw-down match with Raylan, and was involved in the death of a confidential informant for the Marshals. However, throughout the course of Season Two we see Boyd atoning for his actions. He moves in with Ava Crowder as a renter and seems to want to stay away on the right side of the law. He even takes a job with Black Pike, a business that wants to mine for coal in Harlan County. Throughout most of the season we see Boyd referring to his family, his past and the crime that is a large part of it. Even though it seems as if Boyd has taken a turn for the better, we can’t help but think that it is only a matter of time before he reveals himself to be a criminal (just as Givens suspects).

As the plot advances, it becomes apparent that he is still looking out for his own, independent self-interests. Also there is a slow, yet progressive romantic relationship between Boyd and Ava that starts to blossom. As this relationship begins to solidify, we see Boyd’s actions result from him trying to preserve their relationship. When we see this, we see a vulnerable side to Boyd. It is at this point that we see that he cares about something or someone other than himself. Towards the end of Season Two, Ava is wounded during an attack by the Bennett Family. With the consequentialist mentality, Boyd decides to exact revenge. It is this action that, for Boyd, results in his perception of “good.”

One result of Boyd being a consequentialist is the fact that in the first two seasons of the series, it can be quite difficult to understand where his loyalties lie. There are many opportunities to see him as a villain, almost as many as opportunities to see him as a hero. For the consequentialist, the truly good (or righteous) action is the action that maximizes the utmost good. However, with a character like Boyd Crowder it’s hard to tell whether his actions are for the good of all or whether they’re for his own good. Crowder, a calculating and devious individual, poses a very interesting dilemma for the analysis of this consequentialist: whether the consequentialist chooses the right action based on what’s good for all or what’s good for him? Once the story progresses and we learn more about Boyd Crowder, we see Boyd (and yes, Ava, too) slowly move into a life of crime. Yet, it seems as if Boyd is out for his (and Ava’s by extension) best intentions.

The Perfect Foil

Raylan and Boyd are perfect foils for one another. They are driven by a sense of morality that is in diametric opposition of one another. The deontological moralist and the consequential moralist look at the world around them differently.

Raylan Givens is a lawman who sees the world as black and white. This character is a flawed hero. He attempts to do the right thing and makes good and bad decisions based on a distinctly drawn moral spectrum. He knows the right thing to do and the wrong thing to do, even though sometimes his actions don’t reflect this.

Boyd Crowder is a villain whose perceptions of right and wrong best reflect a man who is trying to do the right thing from a perspective that constantly places him at odds with the law. In Givens’s case, the law is very close to his perceptions of morality and in most cases; Givens tries to keep within those boundaries. Sometimes he’s not successful, however. Boyd Crowder does whatever he can to create the maximum amount of good results for his best interests. Both Crowder and Givens serve a moral compass that forces them (for the most part) to be diametrically opposed to one another. Yet, on a few instances, these two men have worked together for a common interest.

Raylan and Boyd exhibit a southern charm that allows them to manipulate others for their own perceptions of “good”. Each character in the series makes a decision that leads them down a road that ultimately creates their own undoing. Raylan’s and Boyd’s decisions are very much in line with the philosophies of Immanuel Kant (deontology) and John Stuart Mill (consequentialism).

Both Raylan and Boyd are struggling to figure out what is right in an environment mired in ambiguity. In making their moral decisions, they shape themselves into different kinds of persons. Whether we make decisions that ultimately create “good” for others or for ourselves, we’re the captains of our own fate. And Justified shows that what we do results in who we are.