Innocence, Experience, and Justice on Netflix

The squadron of pilots from Netflix’s Voltron

Did you ever wonder how the overeducated wanderer’s mind reacts to isolation? As my second week of COVID-induced quarantine drags on, I’m ashamed to confess the quantity of Netflix I’ve consumed. But two titles stand out: Voltron: Legendary Defender, the reboot of the 1980s Americanized anime, and Longmire, based on Wyoming novelist Craig Johnson’s mystery series. They represent two different interpretations of the classic generational conflict.

Voltron starts by loosely retreading the 1980s story: five human teenagers encounter an ancient world dominated by dark magic and arcane technology. Part of this melding is Voltron, a creature half robot, half demigod, controlled by its human pilots. Voltron stands between a just universe, balanced and beneficent in nature, and hungry, conquering evil, embodied in Emperor Zarkon. This Manichaean conflict implies the battle between natural balance and original sin.

In the season one finale, however, an unexpected plot wrinkle emerges: Zarkon, who has conquered unceasingly for ten millennia, was secretly a former Voltron pilot. His conquests have simply displaced his desire to reclaim his status as captain of justice, a desire he’s nursed since before humans began building stone pyramids. While the wet-behind-the-ears human squadron struggles to control their beloved warrior robot, Zarkon’s familiarity with Voltron is chilling.

On Longmire, meanwhile, title character Walt Longmire has served as sheriff of Absaroka County, Wyoming, for years. He’s manifestly effective, but hidebound, a throwback to frontier justice. Sure, he drinks to numb the pain lingering from his wife’s murder, and sometimes he’ll bloody his knuckles getting confessions from swaggering cowboys; but by nightfall, he’s cornered his suspect, and law always prevails.

Walt’s deputy, Branch Connally, unexpectedly announces an election challenge, believing Longmire is past his prime. Walt and Branch are both White, rugged, and handsome, the before-and-after of cowboy justice. But Branch is clean-shaven and photogenic. Walt is rumpled and stubbly, and always looks like he maybe slept with his Stetson pulled over his eyes. Though largely interchangeable, their generational conflict culminates in a punch-up along a Wyoming gravel road.

These two shows have several important overlaps. Both believe justice exists, and humans should strive to achieve it, though evil forces would pervert it for their own ends. Both believe a judicious application of violence is the most efficient means to achieve justice. They ask similar questions about how much of oneself leaders must sacrifice for the common good. How much can lawkeepers protect themselves while still protecting others from atrocity?

The entire sheriff's department on Longmire

The Voltron Force is defined by their youth. They struggle to control their super-weapon, and one recurring theme throughout the seasons is the incremental gains they achieve in mastering themselves and their skills. Their central opponent, however, has enjoyed power for ten thousand years. In a remarkably solid-state empire, Zarkon has grown to accept power as his due. In his mind, he’s entitled to control the universe’s greatest weapon.

Conversely, Longmire’s defining characteristic is age. He’s earned his scars, studied under previous masters, and, samurai-like, now defends the law as his domain. The show makes clear that Branch Connally is a good deputy, but still has unpaid dues. Even Branch admits he still has lessons Walt could teach, if he weren’t too impatient to learn. Justice, in Longmire’s world, comes from experience and seniority, not youthful ideals.

What’s remarkable is the respective attitudes to change. Voltron’s universe has evolved little over millennia, until young humans, willing to learn, disrupt the rusticating empire. Change, for Voltron, is necessary to unseat fat, entitled evil. For Longmire, change is decline. “I remember when I could count the number of murders in this county on one hand,” Walt growls into his beer, as the body count accumulates. “Two at most.”

In brief, Voltron believes justice comes from uprooting the fat, decrepit entitlements of age. Longmire believes justice comes from preserving the lessons taught by experience. Neither position is absolute: the Voltron Force has older mentors beside them, and takes frequent opportunities to learn from aliens they encounter. Longmire, likewise, requires his upstart deputies’ frequent challenges to maintain his competitive edge. But each has specific attitudes toward youth and age.

These different shows have different audiences, of course, and remind their respective target demographics that society values their contributions. Neither youthful idealism, nor hard-won seniority, is enough to bring justice by themselves. Both also charge their audiences to remember that justice exists, but isn’t passive. We must never forget that seniority can cause corruption, and youth can cause chaos. It’s important to keep up the fight, at any age.