ego.istic.org

“They also serve who only stand and wait,” wrote Milton, concluding his poem On His Blindness. What he actually meant was that although God has His purpose for each of us, one can serve Him just as well by doing nothing at all, if that is according to to the gifts He has given. But to me this is not the only reading. I was first introduced to this line of verse by Doctor Who. One of the Target novelizations, I forget which, had an incident in which the Tardis is damaged. The Doctor's companion of the time is worried about the prospect of being stranded: “How can you be a Time Lord without travelling through time?” he asks (or words to that effect). The Doctor responds by quoting Milton.

Then ignorant of its context, I always interpreted the line as a reminder that vigilance is a valid occupation. Sometimes I think that the world is constructed in a very inefficient way. I consider cases of spectacularly competent generals who had the misfortune to be born in peacetime. I wonder about Humphrey Jennings, who made the most iconic Pathé propaganda newsreels of the Second World War, and then after the war languished as a director of mediocre documentary footage. He had an immense talent to do one thing only, and if there had been no war, the world would not remember him. Milton's line expresses that even if you miss your calling, you have also served, by being there just in case. To be in the right place at the right time you must first be in the right place, and there must be many people who have been in the right place, waiting for the call of destiny.

But while this is an important aspect of the idea of destiny — that to cover all the bases, you end up with a lot of people whose destiny never comes — it is not popular with authors of dramatic narrative, who often see the other viewpoint: stasis. Serenity, order, and habit can often seem desirable qualities but authors also celebrate shaking-up, novelty, and dynamism.

The example of this viewpoint that comes to mind most readily is Silverberg's Nightwings. A future humanity is segregated into caste-like guilds. The most ancient of these, the Watchers' Guild, spends its time watching the heavens for a particular sign. The main character is a Watcher, and he follows his Guild's centuries-old tradition of vigilance. As you might expect, all this happens in backstory, and Silverberg doesn't write a whole book about waiting. In fact, most of the book is taken up by Our Hero being the one who spots the long-awaited sign, and what happens after. The countless Watchers who did spend their whole lives standing and waiting don't get to be characters at all. Even if you haven't read this book, you almost certainly have come across a warrior who gave up fighting to become a farmer and/or raise a family, but rather than giving a long, dull tale of his retirement, the story happens to start just before he's recruited for one last mission to save the world. All of these are a celebration of the end of stasis.

Despite this long-standing tradition, there is one particular genre that deals with the triumph of upheaval over stasis: the buddy movie. (I use the recognisable term, but of course the theme isn't limited to films.) We have a set-in-his-ways square, and he meets his wacky partner. At first Square hates the disruption that Wacky brings to his life, but their company is enforced from outside. Soon, shared danger overcome together cements their friendship. Square comes to appreciate how the unexpected can be more fun, and Wacky understands that being methodical can help you get stuff done. It is this movement from stasis to acceptance of change that distinguishes the buddy movie from a standard double-act or partnership. In fact, a partnership is often presented as the aftermath of ‘buddy movie’-type events: the familiar Square and Wacky are present, but Square is tolerant of Wacky's eccentricities, and Wacky values Square as a good friend or colleague.

Habit is a good slave: it lets you learn things and then forget about them. It lets you drive your vehicle without always repeating to yourself, “mirror, signal, manoeuvre,” like a learner. It lets you do the ironing while watching TV. Habit does all the hard mental work for you so you can concentrate on something new. But habit makes a poor master. If you always make decisions out of habit, you will start making poor decisions without even realising you're making them. If you always talk to people who think the same as you, you will never think anything different. If your habitual state, your stasis, is so comfortable that you never want to leave it, then you have let it become your master.

And so, perhaps it is the years of cinema-going speaking here, the learning from fiction rather than life, but I am afraid of stasis. I think it is a very dangerous state to get into, and hard to escape. Some years ago I was concerned more with the issue of habit, and wrote [this short story](http://ego.istic.org/articles/Another%20Day%20in%20Paradise.textile "Another Day in Paradise") to explore it. Perhaps it is static that I am still thinking about the same issue. But today I am concerning myself with the ‘buddy movie’ aspect, with enforced upheaval. Every group — every office, every circle of friends, every club and society, every family — needs Wacky. He doesn't have to actually be wacky, but he does need to stop them falling into stasis. He needs to get bored quickly, and to hate planning; otherwise he will let his friend squares faff around endlessly. He needs to be assertive, prominent enough to get himself noticed, but not so ambitious that he wants to be a leader; otherwise he will become a divisive figure. He needs willingness to be thought foolish, to be a figure of fun; otherwise fear for his standing will stop him trying new things. Most important of all, he needs to be independent enough to go blaze his own trail, but gregarious enough to make sure everyone else will blaze it with him.

But, what's this about being independent? What I really mean is, Wacky needs to not care too much about conformance. Conformance is a psychological term describing the behaviour of people in a group to start agreeing with each other. In a wider sense, and with negative connotations, it is often called “peer pressure.” Asch showed that, if you put someone in a group and ask them to judge whether a given shade of turquoise is blue or green, 80% of people will form their opinion based on what the rest of the group says. Conformance is a real process, and one crucial to the formation of stasis within a group.

The following is from [Wikiquote](http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Brian_Eno "Wikiquote on Brian Eno") and is “attributed” therein to Brian Eno.

I'm afraid to say that admirers can be a tremendous force for conservatism, for consolidation. Of course it's really wonderful to be acclaimed for things you've done — in fact it's the only serious reward, because it makes you think “it worked! I'm not isolated!” or something like that, and it makes you feel gratefully connected to your own culture. But on the other hand, there's a tremendously strong pressure to repeat yourself, to do more of that thing we all liked so much.

This is why conformance is dangerous to groups. Within a group, you keep doing the behaviour that previously got you positive reinforcement. This is a unifying force, and helps to solidify the group, but soon it gets the group into an infinite loop of sameness, into stasis. This is why Wacky needs not to worry too much about his peers' approval: if he does, he can't break them out of the loop, even in a group of two.

As I said above, I fear stasis. But I think the popularity of the buddy movie despite the simplicity of the form shows that I'm not alone in this. Everyone can see in himself a little of the square, but also a little of the wacky. The genre's bringing out into the open of the interplay between Square and Wacky reflects the synthesis between one's own static and dynamic tendencies, and anyone who has watched Fight Club understands what the buddy movie is really about.