“Evil is evil.
Lesser, greater, middling, makes no difference. The degree is arbitrary. The
definition’s blurred. If I am to choose between one evil and another, I'd rather
not choose at all.”
First appearing in
Andrzej Sapkowski’s The Last Wish, these
words appear to introduce the central rhetoric of the Witcher franchise in the third game’s first cinematic trailer –
rejecting the idea of graded absolutism in favor of a libertarian approach to
classical ethical dilemmas.
Every moment of
gameplay and in-game narrative after that, however, serves to critique,
deconstruct, and counter this rhetoric.
The idea of
choices and consequences has always been a staple of games and the Witcher 3 is
not remarkable for having them. It is, however, noteworthy for the ways in
which the choices are presented. Instead of the choices having discrete right
or wrong outcomes, the Witcher III thrives
on moral ambiguity – with all potential outcomes being morally defensible to a
point. However, what really elevates the design of these decisions is the fact
that the consequences are partially hidden from the players until they’ve
progressed further. This has the effect of not only making the choices feel
more real, but also of deemphasizing the power fantasy of having absolute
control over a narrative.
This deemphasis
takes away some player agency, but also proves that doing so can be sometimes
beneficial to the overall experience. The moral ambiguity of choices and the
limited agency over the outcome of these choices often see well-meaning players
accidentally committing atrocities that they would have avoided had they seen
them coming. A sense of uncertainty
grips the players and puts them in an interesting position.
With every choice
having potentially unforeseen negative consequences, the player has no purely
“good” options to pick. If a player were to completely disregard graded
absolutism in the Witcher III, as
implied by the opening narration, they would have to walk away from every
single decision presented in-game without exception However, from both a
gameplay and narrative standpoint, not making a choice at all is established as
the least interesting possible outcome.
On the gameplay
side of things, not making choices in a choice-driven RPG leaves the world
stagnant. No progress is made. No development happens. The game remains in a
state of purgatory unable to move at its intended pace because of an artificial
player induced chronological blockage. Very few things break immersion this
fast or this completely. Without making choices the player ceases to play the Witcher 3 - opting instead to wander a
world stuck in a never-ending war where dying soldiers will remain in a state
of constantly dying while their savior callously walks by uncaring.
From a narrative
standpoint, indecisiveness is criticized even more harshly. The war between
Redania and the Nilfgaardian Empire is of paramount importance to the setting
of the Witcher III. Yet, it is one
that does not need the player’s input to resolve itself – much like most real
wars. With one side of the war being a foreign, imperialistic aggressor, and
the other side being led by a xenophobic, witch-burning, bigot, it seems that
this is one of those ethical dilemmas that Geralt would be encouraged to walk
away from. While getting involved in the conflict may lead to several different
outcomes, some of them decidedly worse than others, not doing anything
ultimately leads to the worst possible scenario. And the game goes out of its
way to call players out on it. A completely apathetic Geralt has to witness his
friends being led off and impaled to death gruesomely, all because he decided
to value his version of moral absolutism more so than the “greater evil” he
could have prevented. This is not framed as an outcome “equally as bad” as some
of the other ones. No, it is stated quite bluntly that, by choosing not to act,
Geralt fucked up.
To get the better
outcomes, the player must engage with the “lesser evil”. Sure, the Nilfgaardian
Empire is a brutal conqueror responsible for hundreds of deaths. But when
compared to an enemy that is decidedly genocidal and unyielding (with a
significantly higher chance of winning), siding with the Empire becomes the
best possible choice. The game reminds you that, even as you side with the
Nilfgaardians, the Empire is still a generally evil entity. However, the
toleration of this entity leads to a much better outcome than the player would
have gotten had they chosen to obstinately stick to their moral high ground.
To summarize, the
actual rhetoric of The Witcher III is
a complete rejection of the “Taking a Third Option” trope that a lot of other
choice based mediums glorify. Not making a choice isn’t a magical “gotcha” card
that lets someone avoid the responsibility of making a tough decision. It is a
choice in and of itself. And I only hope that more people in real life would be
able to see it as such.
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