Essay
I now present one of the seven essays I have slaved over this summer. It's about House and the scapegoat psychology. It does not focus on House's actual motivations, but on the relationship between the writers, the viewers, and the character. Hope you enjoy it! (Note: I didn't include the works cited)
Dr. House: Anti-Scapegoat
The scapegoat psychology, according to Erich Neumann, involves a “guilt feeling based on the existence of the shadow” (43). This shadow is a collection of traits that society deems undesirable and therefore suppresses. We subconsciously fear that these characteristics exist within ourselves, but since the shadow “cannot be accepted as a negative part of one’s own psyche,” we project the shadow onto the scapegoat victim, who is then rejected as alien and evil (43). Of Neumann’s three classes of scapegoat victims, Dr. Gregory House seems to fall perfectly into the category of the “ethically inferior.” The ethically inferior “[fail] to live up to the absolute values of the collective,” which are the basic rules and expectations of society (46).
The show’s writers have created a character who rebels against the standards of professionalism, breaking hospital rules and ignoring medical ethics. Instead of wearing the traditional lab coat, the scruffy Dr. House parades through the halls in rumpled button-down shirts, jeans, and sneakers. He often treats his patients with unconventional methods, prescribing cigarettes for a clinic patient’s inflammatory bowel and Viagra for a 62 year-old woman with a heart condition and low blood pressure (Cooper “Damned if You Do”; Egan “Failure to Communicate”). His behavior verges on the illegal as he violates a DNR and sends his employees on breaking and entering jaunts to patients’ home (Foster “DNR”). The writers have also saddled House with an addiction to the vicodin he takes for his chronic leg pain. Drug addiction is already condemned by society, but in a doctor it is a shocking contradiction. Usually, we view doctors as professionals who promote and follow healthy habits. What is even more disturbing is that even though House realizes he is an addict, he refuses to seek help, insisting that the pills “let [him] do [his] job” (Kaplow & Moran “Detox”).
The ethically inferior are also victims because they are “incapable of achieving ethical adaptation by the formation of a ‘facade personality’” (Neumann 46). This facade personality is the behavioral mask we need to wear in order to conform to society’s standards. It also serves as a screen with which we censor our words and actions before making them apparent to the world. With House, the writers have created a character who rejects this facade personality. Rude and abrasive, House ignores the basic codes of social behavior; he is not concerned with common courtesy and never bothers to soften his speech with the little white lies or placating phrases we-so concerned with the feelings of others-often use. Instead, House seems to revel in insulting everyone around him, especially the young doctors on his team. He repeatedly brings up Foreman’s juvenile record, teases Chase about everything from his shoes to his rich father, and jabs at Cameron’s supposed attraction to the damaged. According to the scapegoat psychology, we should recognize House as evil and seek to destroy him, but instead audiences and critics around the world seem to be responding to the character with much adulation. We can see our sins clearly projected onto House, but instead of vilifying him, we enjoy the insanity of his behavior and come back every Tuesday evening for more. House, who could have so easily been despised as a scapegoat, has become an anti-scapegoat, a man whose imperfections we actually delight in.
David Shore, the creator and executive producer of the show, believes that House’s flaws are what make him so appealing, noting that “people watch [House] because he’s a bastard” (TV Guide April 2006). While it is true that we love him for his antics, we probably would have spurned House as a despicable antagonist if he was just a bastard. We are actually able to like House because even though the writers have heaped many of humanity’s worst traits on him, they still make it clear that House is a heroic character. First and foremost, he is a doctor, someone who automatically commands our respect. We generally view doctors as well-educated authority figures, and trust them to heal the sick or injured. House may lack the accustomed bedside manner, but he is undeniably skilled at his job; he always manages to solve the toughest cases. And though his motivation to find the right diagnosis stems from his love of the puzzle and not from any compassion for the ill-he coldly tosses aside cases he deems “boring”-we cannot deny that House saves lives, a quality which is key to our admiration of him. If House were utterly inept at his profession or deliberately harmed instead of healed, we would have vilified him and shut him out long ago.
Actual villains, such as Hannibal Lecter, are rejected as evil because they intentionally cause harm. We may be able to respect Lecter’s incredible intellect and his seeming omniscience, but we cannot embrace him as a truly likable or even admirable character. As skilled and intelligent as he may be, we cannot ignore the severity of his crimes. We must automatically revile him for violating the sanctity of human life, which society teaches us to treasure and protect. Even though Lecter has done some good, as when he helped the FBI put away a serial killer in “The Silence of the Lambs,” we still feel uneasy with his character because we know his actions are maliciously self-serving and lead to more death. House, on the other hand, does not intentionally kill his patients. On the rare occasion that a patient does die, we at least know that House made every effort to solve the case before the illness progressed irrevocably. The writers have established a pattern of trust with the viewers. Once we are able to trust that House’s goal is to cure his patients and that he will not deliberately harm them, we can enjoy his inappropriately rebellious behavior, which-as Shore points out-is what truly makes him so popular.
There is something fascinating about a doctor who is rude to patients, disregards medical ethics, and would rather play video games than do clinic duty. We are drawn to ability to do as he pleases without caring about what everyone else thinks. “The fact that House doesn’t need to be liked makes him paradoxically likable,” explains Hugh Laurie, who stars as House (TV Guide April 2006). Especially in a society in which people often go to great lengths to garner favor, House’s open rebellion and his irreverence for the world’s opinion are refreshing. We are more likely to be critical of people who actively seek our approval than of those who do not. Once a person believes that they must work to gain our acceptance, we also believe that he or she must earn it. House does not ask to be liked, so we do not need to judge him. We are also unable to rip him apart because he is is so blatantly flawed; there is nothing we could say that is not already obvious. Emotionally and physically damaged, House exhibits society’s shadow traits, those which we both recognize and fear as our own. House does not repress these traits, but pushes the limits by acting on his frustrations, lashing out at the people around him and breaking from society’s constraints. His rebellion is what makes him so interesting; we enjoy watching him because he says the things we only wish we could say and does the things we only wish we could do.
Unlike House, we cannot rebel against society and avoid the consequences. If we took LSD while we were supposed to be working or constantly made quips about our boss’ “funbags,” we would probably be fired. It we insulted and demeaned everyone around us, we would be despised and shunned-House may not have many friends, but at least he still has the respect of his colleagues. As someone who is ethically inferior, House should be “branded, punished and executed by the law and its officers,” but he is protected by the writers, who have created a relatively safe world for the character (Neumann 46). By making Cuddy the doctor in charge of House’s case during his complications with an infarction in his thigh, they settled a heavy burden of guilt on her shoulders (Shore “Three Stories”). As Dean of Medicine, Cuddy is also keenly aware of how House’s reputation as an excellent diagnostician bolsters the reputation of the whole hospital. Her respect for House as a doctor and her guilt over his leg make it impossible for her to fire him. Even when House undermines her authority, such when he forges her signature to invite an old nemesis to give a lecture at the hospital-leaving her to stumble through an introduction of the doctor she knows nothing about-all he receives is a mild verbal rebuke (Kaplow “Distractions”).
It seems amazing that someone as abrasive as House should have a best friend as compassionate and patient as Dr. James Wilson. According to House, however, Wilson is also a “functional vampire” who “eats neediness.” The writers are suggesting that Wilson is so attached to House because he sees the curmudgeonly doctor as “needy.” The writers also give each of House’s fellows reasons for staying with him. Despite suffering under a constant barrage of snide remarks, they tolerate him and even seem to enjoy working for him. Foreman is written as very ambitious, so he enjoys the prestige of the fellowship. Cameron has romantic feelings for House, and though she spent the second season trying to distance herself, she obviously still likes to be around him. Chase’s motivations are less clear, but since we do know that his father was absent for much of his life, we can argue that Chase views House as sort of a father figure.
As viewers, we are entirely immune to all the consequences of House’s actions, which is why we can celebrate his rebellion. We are safely on the other side of the screen, so even on the rare occasion that House must pay a price for his behavior, such as when he is shot by a disgruntled former patient in the second season finale, we do not have to pay a price for our vicarious pleasure. Watching House becomes like watching our ‘dark sides’ come out to play. Through House, we can experience the forbidden things in life. In the episode “Distractions,” we experience the thrill of revenge as House goes to great lengths (inducing migraines in both a coma patient and himself) to ruin Weber’s career and settle a score nearly twenty years old. When House’s ex-girlfriend returns with her ill husband, we experience the wickedness of trying to steal a married woman away from her husband. Many of House’s action’s are considered immoral by society’s standards, but since we are enjoying these displays of our secret fantasies, we find it difficult to condemn him. House is a doctor-an authority figure-so his addiction to and use of drugs are even more inappropriate, and yet we are only mildly disturbed when the episode “Detox” ends with an incredibly high House. Every time he demeans someone, saying something harsh-yet incredibly witty-we cackle gleefully because it is something we wish we could have said. The writers often use humor to dispel the tension that can arise from so many shocking or inappropriate situations. We can feel less guilty about indulging in the forbidden because House is such a comedic character.
As members of a constraining society, we really do depend on House to rebel for us. While we are trapped by the rules, laws, and moral standards of society, House can act outside of these boundaries. As members of society, we have been taught to value its acceptance. We want validation from others that what we are doing is good or right. Our actions are dictated by what we know others will accept as admirable, and we conform to society’s beliefs. House, on the other hand, is not concerned with what society thinks of him. He represents a freedom that we actually wish for. While we could choose to be like House, we know that this is not practical. It is easy and safe for us to conform, but to rebel against society and live outside of it as House does is difficult and ultimately unsatisfactory. But this does not mean that we should throw out everything House is as foolish. We may like some of what House does because it is something we would never want to do, but there are also many things about him that we respect. House may say many unpleasant things, but he also speaks the truth. They are often disturbing truths, the ones we tend to avoid, and we admire him for being unafraid to voice them. “Right and wrong do exist,” House tells a group of medical students, “Just because you don't know what the right answer is . . . doesn't make your answer right or even okay. It's much simpler than that. It's just plain wrong” (Shore “Three Stories”). We like that House has no illusions of a perfect world and respect the truth of his words.
House’s rebellion may appear to be just antinomianism-rebellion for the sake of rebelling. He could be breaking the rules for the fun of it, because he’s old and bitter, or because it just makes for a good show. But we really can’t believe that what he does and says has no meaning. House brings to the forefront many of the darker aspects of humanity and parades our flaws in our faces. He speaks the ugly truth, the things we don’t want to hear and yet desperately need to. Despite how unpleasant this can be, we find ourselves enjoying House. We like his dark humor and the uncomfortably wonderful experience of seeing this man limping around in a world where he can be as snarky and morally unstable as he wants to be. House provides an outlet for the pent up desires society prevents us from acting on. We appreciate House and his style of rebellion, not only because it’s forbidden to us, but because he can partake in it an still be the hero. House is the anti-scapegoat, the kind of scapegoat victim that we don’t want to tear down, because he gives us a chance to celebrate the parts of ourselves that society deems unacceptable. In a society that makes rebellion difficult and isolating, we appreciate House and the peek into the rebellious world that he offers.
Dr. House: Anti-Scapegoat
The scapegoat psychology, according to Erich Neumann, involves a “guilt feeling based on the existence of the shadow” (43). This shadow is a collection of traits that society deems undesirable and therefore suppresses. We subconsciously fear that these characteristics exist within ourselves, but since the shadow “cannot be accepted as a negative part of one’s own psyche,” we project the shadow onto the scapegoat victim, who is then rejected as alien and evil (43). Of Neumann’s three classes of scapegoat victims, Dr. Gregory House seems to fall perfectly into the category of the “ethically inferior.” The ethically inferior “[fail] to live up to the absolute values of the collective,” which are the basic rules and expectations of society (46).
The show’s writers have created a character who rebels against the standards of professionalism, breaking hospital rules and ignoring medical ethics. Instead of wearing the traditional lab coat, the scruffy Dr. House parades through the halls in rumpled button-down shirts, jeans, and sneakers. He often treats his patients with unconventional methods, prescribing cigarettes for a clinic patient’s inflammatory bowel and Viagra for a 62 year-old woman with a heart condition and low blood pressure (Cooper “Damned if You Do”; Egan “Failure to Communicate”). His behavior verges on the illegal as he violates a DNR and sends his employees on breaking and entering jaunts to patients’ home (Foster “DNR”). The writers have also saddled House with an addiction to the vicodin he takes for his chronic leg pain. Drug addiction is already condemned by society, but in a doctor it is a shocking contradiction. Usually, we view doctors as professionals who promote and follow healthy habits. What is even more disturbing is that even though House realizes he is an addict, he refuses to seek help, insisting that the pills “let [him] do [his] job” (Kaplow & Moran “Detox”).
The ethically inferior are also victims because they are “incapable of achieving ethical adaptation by the formation of a ‘facade personality’” (Neumann 46). This facade personality is the behavioral mask we need to wear in order to conform to society’s standards. It also serves as a screen with which we censor our words and actions before making them apparent to the world. With House, the writers have created a character who rejects this facade personality. Rude and abrasive, House ignores the basic codes of social behavior; he is not concerned with common courtesy and never bothers to soften his speech with the little white lies or placating phrases we-so concerned with the feelings of others-often use. Instead, House seems to revel in insulting everyone around him, especially the young doctors on his team. He repeatedly brings up Foreman’s juvenile record, teases Chase about everything from his shoes to his rich father, and jabs at Cameron’s supposed attraction to the damaged. According to the scapegoat psychology, we should recognize House as evil and seek to destroy him, but instead audiences and critics around the world seem to be responding to the character with much adulation. We can see our sins clearly projected onto House, but instead of vilifying him, we enjoy the insanity of his behavior and come back every Tuesday evening for more. House, who could have so easily been despised as a scapegoat, has become an anti-scapegoat, a man whose imperfections we actually delight in.
David Shore, the creator and executive producer of the show, believes that House’s flaws are what make him so appealing, noting that “people watch [House] because he’s a bastard” (TV Guide April 2006). While it is true that we love him for his antics, we probably would have spurned House as a despicable antagonist if he was just a bastard. We are actually able to like House because even though the writers have heaped many of humanity’s worst traits on him, they still make it clear that House is a heroic character. First and foremost, he is a doctor, someone who automatically commands our respect. We generally view doctors as well-educated authority figures, and trust them to heal the sick or injured. House may lack the accustomed bedside manner, but he is undeniably skilled at his job; he always manages to solve the toughest cases. And though his motivation to find the right diagnosis stems from his love of the puzzle and not from any compassion for the ill-he coldly tosses aside cases he deems “boring”-we cannot deny that House saves lives, a quality which is key to our admiration of him. If House were utterly inept at his profession or deliberately harmed instead of healed, we would have vilified him and shut him out long ago.
Actual villains, such as Hannibal Lecter, are rejected as evil because they intentionally cause harm. We may be able to respect Lecter’s incredible intellect and his seeming omniscience, but we cannot embrace him as a truly likable or even admirable character. As skilled and intelligent as he may be, we cannot ignore the severity of his crimes. We must automatically revile him for violating the sanctity of human life, which society teaches us to treasure and protect. Even though Lecter has done some good, as when he helped the FBI put away a serial killer in “The Silence of the Lambs,” we still feel uneasy with his character because we know his actions are maliciously self-serving and lead to more death. House, on the other hand, does not intentionally kill his patients. On the rare occasion that a patient does die, we at least know that House made every effort to solve the case before the illness progressed irrevocably. The writers have established a pattern of trust with the viewers. Once we are able to trust that House’s goal is to cure his patients and that he will not deliberately harm them, we can enjoy his inappropriately rebellious behavior, which-as Shore points out-is what truly makes him so popular.
There is something fascinating about a doctor who is rude to patients, disregards medical ethics, and would rather play video games than do clinic duty. We are drawn to ability to do as he pleases without caring about what everyone else thinks. “The fact that House doesn’t need to be liked makes him paradoxically likable,” explains Hugh Laurie, who stars as House (TV Guide April 2006). Especially in a society in which people often go to great lengths to garner favor, House’s open rebellion and his irreverence for the world’s opinion are refreshing. We are more likely to be critical of people who actively seek our approval than of those who do not. Once a person believes that they must work to gain our acceptance, we also believe that he or she must earn it. House does not ask to be liked, so we do not need to judge him. We are also unable to rip him apart because he is is so blatantly flawed; there is nothing we could say that is not already obvious. Emotionally and physically damaged, House exhibits society’s shadow traits, those which we both recognize and fear as our own. House does not repress these traits, but pushes the limits by acting on his frustrations, lashing out at the people around him and breaking from society’s constraints. His rebellion is what makes him so interesting; we enjoy watching him because he says the things we only wish we could say and does the things we only wish we could do.
Unlike House, we cannot rebel against society and avoid the consequences. If we took LSD while we were supposed to be working or constantly made quips about our boss’ “funbags,” we would probably be fired. It we insulted and demeaned everyone around us, we would be despised and shunned-House may not have many friends, but at least he still has the respect of his colleagues. As someone who is ethically inferior, House should be “branded, punished and executed by the law and its officers,” but he is protected by the writers, who have created a relatively safe world for the character (Neumann 46). By making Cuddy the doctor in charge of House’s case during his complications with an infarction in his thigh, they settled a heavy burden of guilt on her shoulders (Shore “Three Stories”). As Dean of Medicine, Cuddy is also keenly aware of how House’s reputation as an excellent diagnostician bolsters the reputation of the whole hospital. Her respect for House as a doctor and her guilt over his leg make it impossible for her to fire him. Even when House undermines her authority, such when he forges her signature to invite an old nemesis to give a lecture at the hospital-leaving her to stumble through an introduction of the doctor she knows nothing about-all he receives is a mild verbal rebuke (Kaplow “Distractions”).
It seems amazing that someone as abrasive as House should have a best friend as compassionate and patient as Dr. James Wilson. According to House, however, Wilson is also a “functional vampire” who “eats neediness.” The writers are suggesting that Wilson is so attached to House because he sees the curmudgeonly doctor as “needy.” The writers also give each of House’s fellows reasons for staying with him. Despite suffering under a constant barrage of snide remarks, they tolerate him and even seem to enjoy working for him. Foreman is written as very ambitious, so he enjoys the prestige of the fellowship. Cameron has romantic feelings for House, and though she spent the second season trying to distance herself, she obviously still likes to be around him. Chase’s motivations are less clear, but since we do know that his father was absent for much of his life, we can argue that Chase views House as sort of a father figure.
As viewers, we are entirely immune to all the consequences of House’s actions, which is why we can celebrate his rebellion. We are safely on the other side of the screen, so even on the rare occasion that House must pay a price for his behavior, such as when he is shot by a disgruntled former patient in the second season finale, we do not have to pay a price for our vicarious pleasure. Watching House becomes like watching our ‘dark sides’ come out to play. Through House, we can experience the forbidden things in life. In the episode “Distractions,” we experience the thrill of revenge as House goes to great lengths (inducing migraines in both a coma patient and himself) to ruin Weber’s career and settle a score nearly twenty years old. When House’s ex-girlfriend returns with her ill husband, we experience the wickedness of trying to steal a married woman away from her husband. Many of House’s action’s are considered immoral by society’s standards, but since we are enjoying these displays of our secret fantasies, we find it difficult to condemn him. House is a doctor-an authority figure-so his addiction to and use of drugs are even more inappropriate, and yet we are only mildly disturbed when the episode “Detox” ends with an incredibly high House. Every time he demeans someone, saying something harsh-yet incredibly witty-we cackle gleefully because it is something we wish we could have said. The writers often use humor to dispel the tension that can arise from so many shocking or inappropriate situations. We can feel less guilty about indulging in the forbidden because House is such a comedic character.
As members of a constraining society, we really do depend on House to rebel for us. While we are trapped by the rules, laws, and moral standards of society, House can act outside of these boundaries. As members of society, we have been taught to value its acceptance. We want validation from others that what we are doing is good or right. Our actions are dictated by what we know others will accept as admirable, and we conform to society’s beliefs. House, on the other hand, is not concerned with what society thinks of him. He represents a freedom that we actually wish for. While we could choose to be like House, we know that this is not practical. It is easy and safe for us to conform, but to rebel against society and live outside of it as House does is difficult and ultimately unsatisfactory. But this does not mean that we should throw out everything House is as foolish. We may like some of what House does because it is something we would never want to do, but there are also many things about him that we respect. House may say many unpleasant things, but he also speaks the truth. They are often disturbing truths, the ones we tend to avoid, and we admire him for being unafraid to voice them. “Right and wrong do exist,” House tells a group of medical students, “Just because you don't know what the right answer is . . . doesn't make your answer right or even okay. It's much simpler than that. It's just plain wrong” (Shore “Three Stories”). We like that House has no illusions of a perfect world and respect the truth of his words.
House’s rebellion may appear to be just antinomianism-rebellion for the sake of rebelling. He could be breaking the rules for the fun of it, because he’s old and bitter, or because it just makes for a good show. But we really can’t believe that what he does and says has no meaning. House brings to the forefront many of the darker aspects of humanity and parades our flaws in our faces. He speaks the ugly truth, the things we don’t want to hear and yet desperately need to. Despite how unpleasant this can be, we find ourselves enjoying House. We like his dark humor and the uncomfortably wonderful experience of seeing this man limping around in a world where he can be as snarky and morally unstable as he wants to be. House provides an outlet for the pent up desires society prevents us from acting on. We appreciate House and his style of rebellion, not only because it’s forbidden to us, but because he can partake in it an still be the hero. House is the anti-scapegoat, the kind of scapegoat victim that we don’t want to tear down, because he gives us a chance to celebrate the parts of ourselves that society deems unacceptable. In a society that makes rebellion difficult and isolating, we appreciate House and the peek into the rebellious world that he offers.